The Purge
by alma77
Summary: After Body and Soul, it becomes apparent that Tom's holodeck solution wasn't an effective way to treat Tuvok's Pon Farr. After searching the ship's database for an alternative, Tom finds one that wreaks havoc in his marriage.
1. The Nanoprobe Issue

**Acknowledgements:** The story of Sorik and the Vulcan prince is not mine. I reworded it and added a few details, but it was originally thought up by _zarabithia_ in her _Star Trek: Enterprise_ fan fiction "Consequences" and is used with her permission. "Consequences" can be found in the Enterprise section at fanfiction net/s/1248087/1/.

**Also:** Special thanks to Terina00 for being kind enough to suffer through all my antics while still managing to be a good, thoughtful beta.

* * *

"The hologram was adequate, but no substitute for my wife."

"Of course." Tom smiled gently, thinking the old Vulcan came close to returning the expression.

_Almost._

The encounter remained in his mind hours later when he headed for his evening sickbay shift. He normally didn't enjoy being a medic, but it was moments like this that made him think he could somehow run sickbay. Or, to be more realistic, consider the possibility of a career change.

Although, usually when he got on the 'medic kick' something always happened to make him think twice about it. But why ruin the moment right before sickbay duty? He figured he might as well live out the life-saving high before it wore off.

When he entered sickbay, Tom beheld a sight that snapped him out of his fantasy: there, in the middle of the surgical bay, was half of the Doctor.

Tom wasn't sure where the other half was, but it was as though someone had split him vertically right down the middle. He wondered who did it: _Doctor_ _Frankenstein_ or _Daffy Duck_.

"Doc?" He moved quickly to the main console, ready to diagnose what had happened to the Doctor.

"Stand aside, Lieutenant," came Seven's voice. She seemed out of breath as she clumsily bumped Tom out of the way while pressing in a few commands.

"Seven, what are you doing?" Tom watched, dumbfounded, as the Doctor seemed to grow a holographic intestinal tract.

"I am attempting, _hic_, to provide the Doctor with a digestive system."

Tom squinted. "Are you drunk?"

"I have consssumed an acceptable level of ssynthehol. My judgment isssnot impaired."

"Then why are you slurring?"

"Ssslurrring?"

Tom knew better not to argue with a drunk. He moved out of her way in search of the nearest tricorder. Retrieving one that was leisurely sitting on a biobed, he returned to Seven's side and scanned her.

"Your implants aren't processing whatever you drank. I think we better put the Doctor back together so we can figure out if there's a way to…"

_Burp._

"Counteract your reaction."

Seven looked at Tom, then at the Doctor, then at Tom again. She leaned sloppily against the console and looked as though she would topple over at any second. Tom reached for her shoulders and steadily guided her onto the nearest biobed.

"My body had a similar reaction while on the Lokirrim shhhip. Perhaps, I should have had the Doctor scan…" Her voice trailed off as Tom considered suggesting to the Captain that synthehol might be a good weapon to use during their next Borg encounter.

He shook the thought out of his head and went back to the console Seven was using to modify the Doctor. He didn't want to have to call B'Elanna about this. She was in a good mood earlier and he knew this would spoil it.

His hope was in vain. It was moments like this that he felt completely and utterly stupid. He couldn't make any sense of what Seven did to the Doctor's program. All he knew is that the Doc couldn't even speak and he currently looked like Klingon _Gagh_.

He slapped his comm badge. "Paris to Torres."

_::Yes, Tom?::_

"Did I ever tell you how much I love hearing you say those words?"

There was a pause. And then…

_::Pig.::_

"Ah, you're still in a good mood. Would you mind coming to sickbay? The Doctor is having a slight problem with his program."

_::How slight?::_

"Not big enough to alert the Captain. Yet."

_::I see. Is it big enough where I'll have to have someone take over what I'm doing now?::_

"I would say that's a definite possibility."

There was another pause and something that sounded like a deep sigh.

_::I'm on my way. Torres out.::_

xxx

_Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One_ was tanked. And Tom had no explanation for it since, according to her, she only drank four ounces of syntheholic beverage. What confused him was the fact that the Doctor didn't notice, but let her go ahead with the altercations to his program anyway.

It had to do with her implants. _It had to._

"Well she did a good job on the Doctor," B'Elanna commented offhandedly. She pressed in a few commands on the console and the Doctor disappeared then reappeared whole. "I can't undo the unfinished digestive tract she gave him, but I can reactivate the speech and action centers of his program. So don't be too surprised if he suddenly breaks wind or does something really gross while you're trying to figure out what's wrong with Seven."

Tom watched Seven groan uncomfortably. She looked pretty green so he grabbed a basin just in time for her to empty the contents of her stomach. B'Elanna made a disgusted face and keyed in a few more commands.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," came the Doctor's voice. He casually moved to where Tom tried to get Seven to lie down again.

"Her implants are having a bad reaction to the synthehol she drank," Tom explained.

The Doctor frowned, picked up the nearest tricorder he could find, and remembered how he planned to make Tom clean up the mess he made while he was gone. There was also that matter of Tuvok's _Pon Farr_ that he wanted to discuss… But it would have to wait until they dealt with Seven first.

The Doctor scanned Seven and grunted in the usual way he did when something was amiss with her implants. "It looks like her implants have reprogrammed her nanoprobes to behave like synthehol. At this level of intoxication, she should be out cold."

"You mean she programmed herself to be drunk?" If the situation were not so serious, Tom would have laughed.

"I believe I just said that, Mr. Paris. Although, I don't think it was intentional."

"Well, if I'm no longer needed here," B'Elanna said, "I'm going back to engineering."

"Wait." Tom blocked her from leaving. "You'll be awake when I get home, right?"

B'Elanna smiled. "Why? You have plans for us?"

Tom looked down at her with his most charming bedroom eyes. "I thought we could spend some time working on my Klingon. SoH ghaj tln ngech!"

B'Elanna wouldn't dignify his comment with one of her own. She shook her head and walked away, wondering if he even realized what he just said.

Tom turned back to the Doctor just in time to catch him rolling his eyes. "What?" he asked.

"Hold this while I extract some of her nanoprobes for reprogramming."

Seven moaned.

"I hear you." Tom swiped the tricorder and took another reading of her vitals.

"Mr. Paris, I read your report of Commander Tuvok's condition after I returned from the Lokirrim vessel." The Doctor harvested a tube of Seven's nanoprobes.

Tom grinned. "I just passed him in the hallway a few hours ago. He's feeling much better now."

"Did you give him a follow up cortical scan?"

"I didn't think I had to. He told me holo-T'Pel was adequate. He even almost cracked a smile."

"I see..." The Doctor placed Seven's nanoprobes under the microscope. "Did you even read my file on Ensign Vorik's reaction to the holo-therapy I prescribed to him during his _Pon Farr_?"

Tom's victorious expression faded. He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling Vorik's raging expression as he stood over him and B'Elanna on the Sikarri planet while interrupting their foreplay. "I take it it didn't work...?"

The Doctor absently pressed in a series of commands on the console. "You are correct, Lieutenant. Of course, the therapy _appeared_ to work and I cleared him for duty..."

"Right before he disabled the transporters and made off with a shuttle," Tom finished for him. "Could you excuse me for a minute…?" He looked as though he would break into a run as he inched his way toward the door.

"Lieutenant," the Doctor called after Tom before he could bolt. He absently picked up a med kit and held it out to Tom when he peered back through the door. "You'll probably need this."

"Right," he said, flashed the Doctor a smile, and headed straight for Tuvok's quarters.

xxx

To say holo-T'Pel didn't work was an understatement.

Tuvok wasn't sure if it was logic telling him to go to sickbay or if were fear. He wondered if it was even logical to be wondering such things.

He grimaced in pain. His blood boiled.

The blood fever hit him only an hour ago. He felt as torrid as the flame he gazed upon to center his meditation. He needed T'Pel. _He burned for T'Pel_. Tuvok wished he would lose consciousness if only to make it stop.

The sound of the door chime reverberated through his skull.

"Go _away_." He didn't even know if he whispered or shouted. He fumbled to his feet to face the intruder who had the audacity to ignore his request to be left alone. He didn't say anything. He just looked at Tom Paris through narrow eyes.

"I take it the holodeck didn't work." Surprisingly, there was not a hint of the usual caustic flavoring in his voice. Tom held out his tricorder like a peace offering. He stepped towards him, glanced at the readings, then looked him in the face.

"I am _so_ _sorry_." He emphasized each word and snapped off the tricorder. "I thought you were going to be alright. I..."

Tuvok bit his lower lip. His muscles were taut from trying to get his trembling under control.

"I have to transport you to sickbay."

Tuvok whimpered an ascent. He was going to die if something wasn't done. He didn't want to face that possibility before. Tom even made jokes about a man his age still being driven by the mating instinct.

Tom put a supportive hand on his shoulder. "You're going to be alright. I promise."


	2. A Heroic Solution

When the Doctor got the request for Mr. Paris and Tuvok to beam in, he quickly concluded his log entry about how he effortlessly cured Seven of her nanoprobe issue and joined them in the main surgical bay.

"Report, Lieutenant," he said.

Tom eased Tuvok down onto the main biobed. "You were right as usual, Doc."

The Doctor injected Tuvok with a hypospray and Tom handed him his tricorder. He scanned Tuvok's vital signs and frowned. "Prepare for a cortical scan."

"Yes, Doc." Tom could sense the Doctor's grave tone. "What are we going to do about this?"

The Doctor shot him a pained look but said nothing.

Tom moved the portable scanner over Tuvok's head. He resisted the urge to rub the perspiration off his face, remembering that Vulcans didn't like to be touched. He continued to scan as the Doctor monitored the console that was sputtering out his readings.

Tuvok's eyes flew open and rolled back into his head.

"Doctor!"

The Doctor slapped his comm badge. "Emergency Medical Hologram to Captain Janeway."

_::Go ahead, Doctor.::_

"Please report to sickbay, there's an urgent matter I need to discuss with you."

_::Can't it wait, Doctor? I have reports up the yin-yang that I have to discuss with Commander Chakotay.::_

"Captain, it's Commander Tuvok. His condition has deteriorated to the point where I can't treat him."

There was a pause and Tom thought he heard his Captain swearing in the background.

_::I'm on my way.:: _

The comm frequency closed._  
_

"You're just going to let him die?"

"Mr. Paris, calm yourself. There are always alternatives."

Tom clamped down on his mouth when it finally dawned on him that the Doctor didn't call the Captain so she could be with him on his death bed. He only wished he could be a fly on the wall so could see Captain Janeway's reaction to what the Doctor was about to propose.

xxx

When Captain Janeway entered sickbay, she walked right over to where Tuvok suffered on the main biobed. Tenderly, she wiped the perspiration off Tuvok's brow with her own sleeve. His breath came in fits and starts. Then, she turned to the Doctor, face ashen. "You've tried everything?"

The Doctor nodded and spared a glance at Tom.

"I'll be in the office." Tom did exactly as he said.

"His only option is to mate with someone as soon as possible."

Kathryn knew exactly what the Doctor was implying. It wasn't the time to argue or question. The situation was way too serious. She gave the Doctor a nod and turned back to Tuvok who had curled onto his side.

It barely registered that the Doctor had left the room. She knelt so she was at eye level with her Chief of Security. "Tuvok, can you speak?"

He shook his head.

"The Doctor said the only option left for you is to mate, do you understand?"

He nodded.

"Then I think it's logical that I help you, Tuvok." That was it. Not really the most romantic or charming proposition, but then again, Tuvok never struck her as one to be fluttering around in search of melodrama…

Tuvok jolted backwards over the side of the bed and landed in a heap on the floor.

_Or maybe he really did need a little more persuasion._

As it was, he was shaking his head 'no' rather adamantly. Kathryn wasn't sure if she should be relieved or insulted.

She went to his side to help him up and the Doctor and Lieutenant Paris joined her. She stepped back and decided it best to let the other two help him up instead. "Doctor, he refused to let me help him. I'm not sure what else I can do."

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply but was cut off when Tuvok shook both men off his arms, bolted into the Doctor's office, and set the force-field behind him. Through the glass they could see him bunching himself into a ball on the deck.

Tom looked at his Captain thoughtfully. "I wouldn't take it personally, Captain. When I was dealing with him the other day he was very insistent on not cheating on his wife."

"It's probably more acceptable on Vulcan to die." Kathryn said to herself.

"Doc," Tom said suddenly, "I want to search the Vulcan database for anything that might be of help to him."

"Mr. Paris, I've been through all the information relevant to the _Pon Farr_ with a fine toothed comb. I…"

"You just told me a few minutes ago that there are always alternatives," Tom insisted.

The Doctor's mouth turned into a thin line. "Very well, Mr. Paris. Of course, I don't know why you even bother to inform me considering you're going to do what you want anyway."

Tom attempted an assured, confident expression and patted Captain Janeway on her shoulder. "I'll find something."

Captain Janeway watched Tom scurry out of sickbay and turned back to the Doctor. "Keep me apprised of his condition. I want to know immediately if there is any change."

"Of course, Captain." The Doctor glanced toward his office. "What should I do about…?"

"Just beam him out. Somehow I don't think I could talk him down like I did with Kes."

The Doctor sighed deeply. _So much for an uneventful evening with Seven…_

xxx

"Are you going to sleep anytime tonight?" B'Elanna mumbled groggily. She tossed and kicked beside him, but Tom wasn't going to stop reading until he found something. _Anything._

He had already dimmed the lights for her to the point where he could barely see. But he knew that she could sense that he was awake, which was keeping her awake. What made it worse was that he cancelled their Klingon lesson without telling her what stole his attention from her.

It occurred to him that maybe he should have just told her what was going on with Tuvok. She would understand because of her own experience with the _Pon Farr_. But doctor/patient confidentiality forbade it, especially since she and Tuvok were colleagues.

She tossed again and kicked him hard in the leg. Most likely on purpose. Tom could take a hint so he crawled out of bed and reassured her with a gentle kiss on her forehead.

He grabbed the nearest bathrobe; B'Elanna's pink one. He didn't care. He just needed to find some damn coffee.

He thumped out of his quarters. Destination: _mess hall_.

xxx

Tom was pretty darn sure that Neelix lived under the counter. He only had quarters as a cover-up for his real lifestyle.

"Ah, Tom, good to see you tonight! What will it be?"

"Do you have to ask?"

Tom parked himself at a table and Neelix poured him a muddy cup of something. He made a face, but didn't complain. It was probably strong enough to cure the _Pon Farr_. He chuckled at the very idea, but then realized that in Tuvok's condition it would probably kill him.

"Something funny, Tom?"

"No, Neelix. I was just thinking to myself."

Neelix nodded and then seemed to fixate on Tom's arm. "Saaayyy, that's beautiful." He ran his hand along Tom's sleeve. "What is it? Velvet?"

"B'Elanna's bathrobe."

"I love the color!"

"Of course you love the color..." Tom scanned the data PADD, determined to find some kind of treatment before the night was over.

After a moment, he looked up and realized that Neelix was still fascinated by the robe he was wearing. Served him right for ever thinking it was okay to wear pink. Tom rolled his eyes and took it off, leaving only his Starfleet issue underwear. "Take it." He held out the bathrobe to the Talaxian.

"Really?" Neelix half smiled, unsure.

"Yeah, just… don't wear it like this. Turn it into something nice for yourself. Like a jacket or something. I don't want B'Elanna to know I gave you her bathrobe."

Neelix grinned and tried it on anyway. Tom could sense a headache approaching at warp nine point seven five.

"So, what are you reading?"

"Neelix, it's very important that I concentrate on this. Someone's life is at risk."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Tom. I'll just go continue my cleaning and let you read then." Neelix humbly retreated to the back of the kitchen, leaving Tom in peace.

_In his underwear_.

People didn't often walk around starships in their underwear.

_Did they?_

Tom couldn't concentrate because he was sitting in the mess hall _in his underwear_. And to make matters worse, a whole bunch of Ensigns from engineering walked in, talking shop and laughing amongst themselves.

Granted, people sometimes came to the mess hall at night wearing bathrobes for some hot cocoa, or coffee if they're working on a project, but most normal people drew the line at wearing nothing but the skivvies.

Because of the little flap that tends to pop open in the crotch area.

Tom's eyes fell covertly to his lap, confirming his suspicion. For the first time in years, he truly felt _French_.

He stood abruptly and decided that he'd have better luck if he just took a power nap for an hour or two. The Doctor did say that Tuvok was stable last time he called, so he couldn't allow himself to feel too guilty over only two hours. He scooted out of the mess hall and hoped that B'Elanna had stopped her tossing and turning.

xxx

Tom slept for four hours and woke up cursing himself. B'Elanna nestled beside him, blissfully unaware of Tuvok's impending doom.

He ripped the comforter off him and stumbled to the replicator. "Coffee. Hot," he told it.

A minute later he sat on his recliner with a warm mug of coffee trying to figure out where the heck he put the data PADD he had with him the night before.

_Chirp._

_Who the hell would be visiting this early in the morning?_ he wondered. "Come in." He reached for his robe.

"Good morning, Tom!" Neelix burst into his quarters cheerfully. He plopped down on the end of the bed. Tom winced and hoped to all things omnipotent that he didn't land on B'Elanna's feet.

"Neelix!" Tom feigned excitement. "Don't you _ever_ sleep?"

Neelix shrugged. "No need to worry about me, Tom. How are you this morning?"

Tom decided it best if he just didn't answer.

Neelix, still looking pleasant as ever, put his hand in the multi-colored-jacket-thing he always wore and retrieved the data PADD Tom had with him in the mess hall. "I thought you would want this back."

Tom breathed a sigh of relief and felt genuinely grateful. "Thanks, Neelix. You're a life-saver." He took the PADD from him.

"Pretty interesting reading, by the way."

Tom closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Neelix _didn't _ever sleep. And B'Elanna wasn't done sleeping.

On cue, B'Elanna kicked Neelix right in his ass. He stumbled forward with a loud '_Ack!'_.

B'Elanna ripped the covers off her, climbed over Tom's side of the bed, and stalked into the bathroom. The door slid shut rather loudly. Tom gave Neelix a pained look.

"Oops." Neelix rubbed his sore bottom. "I'd better get back to the mess hall. I've got a big breakfast to cook. Wildor-berry pancakes!"

"Sounds delicious," Tom said numbly.

Neelix left as quickly as he entered and Tom was thankful that Neelix finally understood that it was time to just... stop. Well, this time, anyway.

Tom scanned the data PADD he held in front of him. _This wasn't where I left off, _he observed. It wasn't even the same topic. Last night, he was going through the biological database, but the information in front of him at that moment was historical. It was a book originally penned by T'Pau of Vulcan titled, _The Revised History of Melding._

_Where did you come from? _He leisurely sipped his coffee and began to read...

* * *

"_It came to pass in the days of Surak there lived a melder named Sorik who promoted and taught the art of melding all over the planet. As a result, mind melds had become a treasured part of Vulcan heritage._

"_Towards the end of Sorik's life, he became embittered and consumed with the privileges that came with his power and social status, rejecting many of Surak's teachings. After __Sorik's wife passed on to the hall of Katras,_ he experienced a most violent time of mating and sought to end it, hoping to spare his own life.

"_Sorik knew of a prince named Suleek who was betrothed to a young priestess. Sorik melded with Suleek, performing a purging meld. His time of mating was thrust onto Prince Suleek, purging the time of mating from his own body and soul._

"_As a result_, _Prince Suleek experienced a time of mating so violent that it overwhelmed him. With his betrothed, he sought to end the blood fever but every attempt was unsuccessful. Prince Suleek perished._

"_When all of the land learned of the murder of Prince Suleek, many forbade melders from practicing."_

* * *

After reading the text he blinked. Then he read it a second time. A plan started to form...

_All I have to do is get Tuvok to 'purge', _his mind raced._  
_

_On me!__  
_

His coffee went down the wrong pipe and he fell into a fit of uncontrollable coughing. He didn't want to think of the '_on me_' part.

Come to think of it, he wasn't too fond of the _Suleek dieing_ part of the story either. In fact, he hated that part. He didn't mind the part about _seeking to end the blood fever._ That part sounded like fun, actually. It was because the Vulcan prince died, even though he mated, that caused him to recoil and consider searching more of the database for a different alternative. But...

There was no time for that anymore. If this was the only chance at saving Tuvok, he'd have to take it. _Immediately_. His condition had deteriorated so quickly the previous day that he had to get to sickbay _ten minutes ago_.

He got up to get dressed just as B'Elanna came out of the bathroom, fully dressed and ready to stomp anything in her way. "Sleep well, _flyboy?_" she gibed.

"B'Elanna, I swear if this wasn't important I wouldn't have kept you up all night."

B'Elanna looked at him, unwavering. "Tom, whatever is going on better be over by tonight."

Tom moved close and turned on the charm. "It will be," he said. "I promise."

B'Elanna's expression softened. "I'll try to get out of the double shift I planned to work today."

"Then we can work on my Klingon?" he asked hopefully. Learning Klingon usually resulted in _exploring_ Klingon._.._

"No. Then I can take a nap." With a final glare she stalked out of her quarters, ready to drill the poor insolent fools who were stupid enough to work in the engine room of the _USS Voyager._

xxx

"Absolutely not." The Doctor and Tom stood eye to eye in the sickbay office.

"Why not? You said so yourself. All his options have become useless. He'll die if we don't do something."

"Mr. Paris, we have no idea how the _Pon Farr_ will affect a human. And you've read the story. Suleek died anyway."

"We know how it affected B'Elanna."

"She's also half Klingon."

"She's human too. I can't just sit around and let him die knowing I could have done something."

"And what does she think of this?"

What did she think of this? The thought of telling her did cross his mind, but he wasn't sure why that idea scared him so much. "She doesn't know," he said.

"Either way, you don't understand. A Vulcan's body prepares itself for the _Pon Farr_ months in advance and the condition is still extremely severe. It could take your life in a matter of hours."

"That's not going to happen. B'Elanna will help me. She's not going to stand by and watch me die when the cure is something we do anyway."

The Doctor crossed his arms thoughtfully. "If we can get him to agree to this, and assuming he even knows how to perform such a meld, you would have to remain in sickbay. That includes when it's time to mate."

"Don't you think that's a little voyeuristic?"

"It's practical. If something happens and you need medical treatment it will be readily available."

"But still, Doc, I don't think…"

"We can arrange the furniture in my office and cover the glass with curtains. I can even have Mr. Neelix decorate if you…"

"_No_."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Let someone else decorate. Neelix makes me want to go blind."

"Very well then. We'll have a word with Commander Tuvok and see what he thinks of all this."

Tom nodded and tried not think about what he was about to do. Some things were easier done when he didn't think about them. This was one of those things.

They left the office and went to where the Doctor had Tuvok sedated on one of the biobeds. The Doctor pressed a hypospray loaded with a stimulant to his neck and waited for a sign that he was conscious.

Tuvok gasped lightly, but his eyes wouldn't open.

Tom knelt down so he was at face level with him. "Tuvok, it's Tom. Can you understand me?"

Tuvok nodded slightly.

"Have you ever read '_The Revised History of Melding'_ by T'Pau?"

Tuvok nodded again and Tom realized it was like talking to a child. He wondered if Tuvok was even capable of performing any kind of meld in his state.

"Do you remember reading the story about Sorik and Suleek?"

At the mention of the story, Tuvok's eyes snapped open and Tom tried not to smile. He _did_ understand. "That's right, Tuvok. You know what I'm suggesting. I think it's logical that you at least consider it. Personally, I couldn't live with myself thinking I could have helped you but didn't. And I also think…"

"Mr. Paris." The sound of Tuvok's strained voice made him clamp down on his mouth. "I trust the Doctor has made you well aware of the flaws in your logic."

"He has. But I'm illogical, remember?"

"You don't understand what you are proposing…"

"I…"

"_Let me finish_. The purging causes a condition that can become so severe that, in order for it to be cured, you would have to be telepathically bonded to your mate."

"I take it Suleek wasn't bonded?"

Tuvok nodded faintly. "At the time of Surak, many Vulcans were unaware of the practice telepathically bonding."

Tom felt dejected. "We're not telepaths."

Tuvok closed his eyes, clearly finished with their conversation.

"What if we can simulate a telepathic bond through a neurogenic interface?" The Doctor piped up. "I could link you and Lieutenant Torres together and then monitor you from the main surgical bay. I would have to have Seven assist me of course…"

Tom was slowly suspecting that this was going to be turned into a circus. "No. B'Elanna would never go for it."

"If I recall, she helped you out during the _Alice_ incident."

"I mean inviting everyone in to monitor us while we're having sex."

"Oh. Well there's no need to get all flustered, Mr. Paris. It's just a biological function. But if you insist I'll uphold the ethic of patient/Doctor confidentiality."

"Thanks," Tom said caustically.

"Commander," the Doctor asked Tuvok, "have you been listening?"

Tuvok nodded weakly.

"Then will you attempt the meld?"

Tuvok didn't reply right away. He needed help and this was turning out to be the only viable solution to his dilemma.

Still, he had no desire to see Tom and B'Elanna live through another incident involving _Pon Farr_ all over again. The condition was alien to them and, as frightening it is for Vulcans, he could barely imagine how terrifying it must have been for B'Elanna.

But he had no other option. He wanted to live. He wanted to see T'Pel again. And his children… He wanted to help bring _Voyager_ home…

Tom had offered him a way out and, in some twisted way, it was logical.

Tuvok lashed out and used Tom as a crutch to pull himself into a standing position. When Tuvok was at the same level as Tom's face, he fumbled for the pressure points to initiate the meld.

Then, Tom could feel the surge of something primal, wildly pushing into his consciousness. It barely registered that it was Tuvok, but certainly not the same being who touched his mind years before. This warped, hedonistic Tuvok owned him like a demon controlling its victim, searing each neural pathway and branding each node.

"Stop fighting it," Tuvok whispered.

Tom no longer had a choice. He could feel himself wanting to scream for help, but he no longer had the control over his own voice.

Only then, with it completely ablaze in the Tom's mind, Tuvok was able to free himself. His _Pon Farr_ was purged.

Tuvok withdrew from Tom, wishing he could offer some kind of comfort. He stumbled backward and bumped awkwardly onto his bed. He remembered Tom's last crying thought. _Help me..._

Tom sunk to the deck unconscious. The Doctor guided him all the way.

"Doctor." Tuvok's voice shook.

"He's alright." The Doctor snapped off his tricorder. "For now. I'm going to need your permission to discuss with Lieutenant Torres what happened. Otherwise, it might become difficult for me to explain how…"

"There will be no need. I will tell Lieutenant Torres what transpired immediately." Tuvok struggled to get up in his weakened, yet much improved state.

"Now just a minute. You're staying right here so I can make sure the _Pon Farr_ is no longer a threat. Why don't you sit down and meditate while I inform the Captain of the current situation. She's going to wonder why Mr. Paris is not on the bridge today."

"Understood Doctor." Tuvok sat back down on his bed and watched Tom sleep.


	3. The Angry Wife

"He did _what_?" B'Elanna stood in the Doctor's office, half gawking and glancing sidelong through the glass where Tuvok meditated on the biobed next to Tom's.

Captain Janeway stood with her hands on her hips, looking like she had just received a lecture from a temporal mechanics professor. "Let me get this straight, Doctor. You're saying Tuvok's cleared for duty… but Tom isn't?"

The Doctor smiled proudly, looking like he wanted to give his prized medic a big, fat, triumphant noogie. "He saved Tuvok's life, Captain. The chemical imbalance disappeared almost instantly."

"You mean… I can have my Chief of Security back?"

The Doctor nodded, still grinning like a jackass.

"Doctor," B'Elanna snapped. "What am I supposed to do with him now?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Well, mate with him, one would assume."

B'Elanna had to sit down. It wasn't enough that she was only going off about four hours of sleep and had to work a double. And for some odd reason Neelix served her breakfast while wearing_ her bathrobe_.

_But this…_

Pulling out the chair from the desk, B'Elanna sunk into it. She leaned heavily on her elbows and cradled her head.

"Doctor, will you excuse us for a minute," said Captain Janeway.

"I'll just go check on the patient." He quietly let himself out.

Janeway slinked across from B'Elanna. "You're upset that you were pulled into this without being warned first."

"Is it so much to ask for?" B'Elanna lifted her head and looked right at her. "Captain, if he or the Doctor had just told me what was going on, I would've supported this anyway. This…"

"Makes you feel like a doormat?"

"No. This makes me feel like a toilet. I'm where he's going to relieve himself after saving the galaxy from Chaotica's evil sex spores."

"B'Elanna, I can't deny that I'm happy to have Tuvok back on duty, and a large part of me feels indebted to Tom for willing to help him in this matter. But I also want you to know I understand."

"How am I supposed to help him when I'm so angry with him?"

"I can't answer that. But to be blunt, I seem to remember him willing to help you in a similar situation. This isn't some game he's playing with you. He saw an opportunity to do the right thing and he took it."

B'Elanna had nothing to say to that. Captain Janeway was right.

But it only served to make B'Elanna more angry than she was before. She stood and crossed the deck to observe her sleeping husband through the office glass, deciding it best to change the subject. "Did the Doctor say when he would wake up?"

Captain Janeway joined her. "He didn't."

"He looks so peaceful."

Smartly, Janeway nodded in agreement.

"His condition is anything but peaceful, Captain." She hated how everyone on Voyager always swept their ethics under the carpet whenever it was convenient. _Pon Farr_ was the closest thing to biological date rape she had ever seen.

"His condition," Janeway answered carefully, "is controlled and monitored."

B'Elanna snickered to herself. She had her. She turned to face her Captain, head on. "Well if it's as simple as that," her smile faded as quickly as her laugh, "then call me when you need me." She stalked past Janeway and right out of sickbay.

xxx

"Lieutenant…?"

"Doc…" Tom peeked through his heavy eyelids and could see a blurred version of the Doctor towering over him. "What happened?"

"Commander Tuvok completed the meld. There appears to be a chemical imbalance in your cerebral cortex," he said. "Shall I congratulate you?"

Tom slightly turned his head and could see Tuvok also standing over him with a hint of concern in his otherwise stoic features. "Lieutenant, allow me to express my gratitude for your willingness to help relieve my condition."

"Uh. You're welcome." Tom wasn't sure if he should say anything else since he was having that awkward moment when you steal a Vulcan's _Pon Farr_. He struggled to get up and was surprised when Tuvok took his hand and pulled him gently into a sitting position.

"How are you feeling?" The Vulcan inquired.

Other than the headache to end all headaches, he actually felt pretty normal. He tried to get his head to stop throbbing by squeezing his eyes shut. It didn't work. Then his stomach growled.

"Like I missed breakfast," he said.

"I'll see to it that Mr. Neelix brings you something to eat."

"Thanks." Tom tried to focus on the rest of the room. The Doctor hadn't moved and he finally realized Captain Janeway was standing nearby.

Everyone was staring.

"I'm fine," he said adamantly. To prove it, he pushed himself off the biobed. He regretted it when he tumbled forward and Tuvok caught him.

"Just a little dizzy..."

"You're recovering from an intense mind meld." The Doctor moved to where Tom was trying to stay balanced. "I want you to take it easy until we can prepare sickbay for the conclusion of this undertaking." He gently guided Tom's face to one side and placed a cortical monitor behind his ear.

"Doctor, what do you mean 'prepare sickbay'?" Captain Janeway asked, seeming annoyed that she was only given half the story.

"According to Commander Tuvok, he needs to be telepathically linked to Lieutenant Torres in order to cure the _Pon Farr_ after it's been induced through a purging meld."

"And you let him do this anyway?"

"The solution would be to link them through a neurogenic interface and keep them linked until copulation is complete."

"You can't be serious."

"They'll make use of my office and a privacy curtain," the Doctor said.

"Doctor." She looked mildly disgusted. "Would you let me have a word with him privately?"

"Of course, Captain." The Doctor went back into his office and Tuvok moved out of hearing range.

"I was just talking to B'Elanna," Captain Janeway said to Tom once they were alone. "You know I hate getting involved in the private matters of my crew, but given the situation I think I should warn you that she's not exactly happy you went through with this without telling her."

"Captain, I didn't have a chance to tell her..."

Janeway held up a hand to silence him. "As Seven would say, that's irrelevant now. You should talk to her before this gets out of hand."

Tom didn't want to even think about it 'getting out of hand'. He knew the chemical imbalance was a ticking bomb and he cringed at the idea of losing control the way B'Elanna had years before. Just as there was no time to warn B'Elanna, there was no time to warn himself. "Can you get the Doc to let me go?"

Janeway sized him up and frowned, clearly not liking what she saw. "I'll have Tuvok escort you to engineering."

"I think I can handle going there myself." Tom winced at the sound of his own voice. He didn't mean to sound so... _angry_.

"That may be the case, Lieutenant. But I'm not going to run the risk of this turning into a circus. Understood?"

A wave of trepidation fell over him. "Yes, Ma'am," he murmured.

xxx

"Vorik, get down here and monitor these readouts while I try to get this sensor relay back online!"

Vorik slid down the ladder from the catwalk trying to get there _two seconds ago_. "Yes, Lieutenant," he said.

_Too bad he isn't fast enough_. B'Elanna grunted disapprovingly when he joined her at the console. "Any idea who the _P'taQ_ was that overloaded this thing?"

"Lieutenant, I am most certain it was an accident. Furthermore, I think…"

"Don't even start, Vorik. I'm not in the mood."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And stop trying to mimic Tom. You know how much that irritates me."

"You approved of it before. I believe your words were 'there may be some hope for you yet'."

"Just…" B'Elanna paused in an attempt to regain some lost composure. "Monitor the damn console."

She spun towards the Jeffries tube where she needed to mend a whole series of fried wires, but stopped short when a fleeting thought interrupted her. "Vorik."

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

She turned back to him. "Have you ever read the story of Sorik and the Vulcan prince?" She glared into his back.

He turned around to face her. "Lieutenant, this conversation is highly inappropriate for the task…"

"_Just answer me._"

"I have."

Her eyes narrowed. She couldn't shake the ridiculous notion that Vorik somehow had something to do with Tom's condition. "Clean up this mess. I'm going to have Seven replace me."

"Yes, Lieutenant." He turned back to the console.

B'Elanna stalked towards the door and literally slammed into her husband. She stumbled backwards.

"Careful!" Tom caught her by the arm. "B'Elanna…"

"_What?_"

"I would have told you about this if I had the chance, but Tuvok's condition was critical and I couldn't risk…" He trailed off when he saw he had provoked a few curious stares from onlookers. Vorik was watching, his eyebrow cocked beneath his bangs.

"This isn't the place." B'Elanna stalked past him. Tom followed her into the corridor, keeping right on her tail. Tuvok lingered a few feet behind them, kindly giving them their space.

"B'Elanna, listen to me." Tom exhaled while visibly forcing himself to relax. "I know you're upset that I didn't talk to you first…"

"You have no idea what you just did." B'Elanna tried to keep the anger out of her tone.

"I offered Tuvok some help and he took it," he said. "Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"This could kill you, Tom."

"Is that what you're worried about?" Tom chuckled. "B'Elanna, all we have to do is…"

"I know what we have to do."

"Then what's the problem?" He grabbed her shoulders. "We do it all the time. We…"

"Let go!" She yanked herself free and shoved him against the bulkhead. She could hear the wind escape his lungs.

Tuvok quickly covered the distance to assess the damage. "Are you alright, Lieutenant?"

"I'm sorry," B'Elanna said, regretting her reaction. "I didn't mean to do that. Are you hurt?"

Tom winced, but otherwise seemed to recover quickly. "B'Elanna, I need you."

She couldn't tell if he was feigning vulnerability or if he was being sincere. But what she did know is how easily he could manipulate her with the tone of his voice.

"Don't let me go through this alone," he pleaded.

She crossed her arms, suspiciously. "Well, I'm glad to hear I'm included somewhere in your plans."

"I'm not joking, B'Elanna. Tuvok had no time. _I_ had no time. I literally read the story while you were getting dressed this morning and then ran to sickbay afterwards to help him."

"What about before I left? You had a moment then. Am I some kind of monster that you couldn't have said something?"

"Like what? 'Honey, I'm getting all _Pon Farred_ up for you tonight?' Somehow I don't think it would have went over too well with you working a double shift and all."

"Well if you could only see how many brownie points it's earning you right now..."

"You should return to sickbay." Tuvok so tactfully interrupted.

"Why do we need to go there?" B'Elanna asked Tom. "Wouldn't our quarters be more appropriate? Or maybe we could get lost in a random cave somewhere..."

Tom looked pained.

"Oh, I know! We can make a holodeck game of it. Captain Proton and the Pocket Rocket!"

Tom opened his mouth to retort, but stopped. B'Elanna knew he couldn't beat her pocket-rocket comment. Even if he tried.

He turned and stalked towards the turbolift. She followed, worried that she might have upset him.

Inside the lift, B'Elanna kept her eyes in front of her. She glanced to the side in time to catch him pulling the top of his collar open. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Hot, Lieutenant?"

"I'm a little cramped," he answered. "You know how claustrophobic I can get."

"Nice save." She looked pointedly at his massive boner.

The lift ejaculated them on deck five and B'Elanna walked briskly towards sickbay. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Tom struggling to keep up with everything in its rightful place.

"You know..." Tom's voice had a nervous edge to it. "I'm not exactly sure what I should expect…"

"Uh-huh."

"…I mean, I remember what it was like for you…"

"You do?"

"I remember what it was like for me being stuck in a cave with you while you…"

"Well, it's not really the time to discuss it, is it?"

"When is the time?" Tom sounded confused.

"I don't know," she said, "about _five hours ago_, maybe."

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"No, you only wish I were."

They both entered sickbay and the Doctor greeted Tom by scanning him with a tricorder. B'Elanna crossed her arms and watched, mentally urging the hologram to have one of his more obnoxious days.

"Well, Lieutenant, I can see you've managed to arrive here safely without having to change your shorts."

B'Elanna wasn't disappointed at all.

"Doc." Tom shoved the tricorder away from him. "Could you back off while I talk to B'Elanna?"

"Possessive instincts, irritability…"

"I'm listening." B'Elanna noticed his breathing had become more pronounced. She looked more closely at her husband and saw beads of sweat forming at his hairline.

"You didn't exactly get the whole story," he said. He glanced down at his hands and noticed they were shaking. He closed his eyes for a moment. B'Elanna could see that it took him some effort to get them to stop.

"There's more?" She was fully aware that they'd been keeping information from her.

Tom nodded. "The Doc's going to have to link us."

"What do you mean, link us?"

"Tuvok said that after _Pon Farr_ is induced through this kind of mind meld we have to be telepathically linked."

"And you did this anyway? Will you at least tell me what you were thinking?"

"Mr. Paris," the Doctor said.

"_What?_"

"Maybe you better let me explain this to her."

Tom threw up his hands in exasperation. "I'll be in the office."

When he left, the Doctor turned to B'Elanna. "Lieutenant, his condition is quickly getting worse. You can see that for yourself. He's lucky I let him out of sickbay to go find you."

B'Elanna folded her arms and waited for him to continue.

"At this rate, it will be critical by this time tomorrow and, if what Commander Tuvok said is true, he will have to be linked to you during copulation. There's no other option."

"How?"

"A neurogenic interface. It will be completely safe. I intend to monitor the process…"

"That's enough, Doctor," she said tiredly. "I'm so glad you both have my sex life all planned out for me."

"B'Elanna, he'll _die _if something isn't done."

"And I suppose it would be all my fault if he did."

An exasperated look spread over his face. "Are you going to help him or not?"

"You didn't leave me with much of a choice."

"Lieutenant," the Doctor soothed, "you're fatigued. He still has some time so I think it would be wise for you to return to your quarters to get some rest."

B'Elanna chuckled at the Doctor's audacity. "A nap? Tom is in heat and you want me to take a nap? How about dinner and a movie while I'm at it? Shall I have Neelix whip a batch of popcorn?"

"Well, if you think it will put you in a better mood..."

She glanced sidelong at Tom through the office glass. He sat at the Doctor's desk, holding onto it for support. There were visible tremors wracking his body.

The Doctor had a point. Tom didn't need her to act like this. Not now. The damage was already done and the only thing left to do was correct it. "I'm not going anywhere, Doctor."

"Very well then." Oddly enough, the Doctor seemed pleased. "If you can try to keep him calm long enough for me to prepare the neurogenic interface, you can begin helping him within the next hour."

B'Elanna shrugged. It sure as hell beat working a double in engineering anyway.

When she joined Tom in the office, he gazed at her uncertainly from where he sat. His knuckles were white from holding the desk; his brow covered in sweat. His breathing had turned into a steady pant. He looked pathetic. B'Elanna never wanted to see him like this. It wasn't right.

She closed the distance between them and pulled him into her arms. She held him until she could feel the tension melt from his shoulders.

"Don't let me go," he whispered.

"Shhhh," she soothed. She ran her hands along the hair on the nape of his neck and took in his scent as she always did when she had him in her arms.

Absently, he ran his hands along her sides. Then, with more determination, he moved his thumbs over the sides of her breasts.

B'Elanna knew she had to stop him, but he was so hard to resist.

When he reached her hips, he tried to pull her down onto his lap. He moved his own hips towards her.

"Not yet." She pulled back a little. "Remember what the Captain told us about public displays?"

"What?" Tom pushed himself into a standing position. B'Elanna backed up.

Tom glanced over his shoulder at the Doctor. "He's just a hologram."

He advanced towards her.

She dodged.

"Besides, he'd probably find the inter-species mating ritual fascinating..."

Her eyes widened. "Please tell me you're joking."

_Joking? Was he?_ It took him all but two seconds to have her up against the glass, mouth on hers, and seriously rubbing his erection into her groin.

She struggled, but not enough. If she wanted she could've had him flat on the floor in a heartbeat, but she had no desire to break his jaw. She closed her eyes and wished they were alone.

"Really, Lieutenant," came the Doctor's voice with the hiss of a hypospray.

Tom slumped onto B'Elanna's shoulder, unconscious and leaving her trapped between his heavy body and the window.

"I believe I said 'try to keep him calm,' not 'go have sex with Tom.'"

"Right." B'Elanna threw up her arms. "Because, _clearly_ I misheard you, Doctor."

"No harm done." The Doctor gently guided Tom's unconscious body to the deck, a maneuver that seemed odd to B'Elanna since she had become accustomed to seeing the Doctor lift people onto the biobeds whenever they were sedated. "The sedative will only last an hour and hopefully by then his condition will not have progressed too much."

B'Elanna straightened out her uniform and pushed her hair out of her face.

"In the meantime, we should take the opportunity to make this area more suitable for your mating practices."

"I think we should go back to our quarters."

"I think that is unwise at this point, Lieutenant."

"Doctor, this experience is humiliating to us. The least you could do is allow us more privacy."

"Humiliating?" The Doctor scoffed. "It's a simple biological function."

"Then why did you sedate him?"

The Doctor couldn't argue with that. As fascinating as inter-species mating was to him, he couldn't think of any other way to manipulate her into letting him watch. "If I let you take him back to your quarters," he said, "do you promise to alert me the moment you suspect anything is wrong?"

Ignoring the fact that everything about the situation was wrong, B'Elanna nodded. "I promise." She couldn't disguise the sound of relief in her voice.

"Very well. I will transport you both there as soon as I've finished my work on the interface."

"Thank you, Doctor." B'Elanna's mouth quirked slightly at her victory and the Doctor went back to his highly important task of preparing the little device that meant the difference between life and death.


	4. A Good Fuck

Fifty-five minutes later, B'Elanna reclined on her side of the bed and waited patiently for her husband to wake. It took the Doctor half an hour to prepare the neurogenic interface, fifteen minutes to have Seven inspect it, and another ten to fix a big, ugly, green plasma burn on Vorik's arm.

_Vorik._ The last person she wanted to see before she transported to her quarters. What had gotten into him earlier? She was fairly certain that all the fires she had put out that morning were his doing.

_Enough about Vorik. _Upon hearing her husband stir, she decided that she definitely had more important things to think about.

"Computer, lights fifty percent," she murmured.

Tom stretched, yawned, and twisted toward his side of the bed, shaking off the last vestiges of his drug induced slumber. Then, he froze in place, as though remembering everything he had done earlier.

After a long moment, he finally asked, "You know what really bothers me about this whole mess?"

"No, what?"

He slowly turned back to her. "I still didn't get breakfast."

"Peanut butter on toast?" she asked, perfectly willing to go make him some.

His eyes dilated. "Forget the toast, I'd rather cover you in peanut butter and eat you all up."

B'Elanna's eyes widened. When he reached for her, she nearly fell off her side of the bed and scurried towards the table.

"I'm kidding," Tom said at full volume. "I'll take some toast."

B'Elanna threw some bread in the toaster and decided that she needed to just calm down. _Why was she so anxious? __  
_

Tom pulled himself out of bed and moved towards the viewport, his eyes on his own wobbly feet rather than the stars before him. He crossed his arms over his chest. She said nothing as a particularly bad tremor wracked his body. His muscles tensed and a small, pained noise escaped his throat. He was trying hard to control himself. She appreciated it.

"It's ready," she said softly. She slinked away and hoped he could eat without her distracting him.

Focused only on her, Tom approached the table, barely concealing his appetite. He picked up the toast and nibbled a little...

He put the toast back on the plate.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"My stomach is growling like crazy," he told her. "But... I just can't eat."

B'Elanna thought she understood. She stepped towards him, but he retreated towards the couch. It was beginning to feel like a game of cat and mouse. Like a 'Tom and Jerry' cartoon, he would say. When he sat down, he leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands. He seemed so vulnerable.

She sat down next to him, wanting to reach out and...

"B'Elanna, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Pity me. That's what."

_Pity him? _

B'Elanna didn't even know how to respond. "Is it wrong to want to comfort you?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he pushed himself off the couch and stumbled out of her reach. She didn't want to play anymore so she didn't follow.

"Listen." He laughed nervously and turned to face her after a rather pathetic attempt at controlling the shakes. "I don't think any mental link is going to help me."

"You're not thinking clearly," B'Elanna said.

"What I need right now is a _good fuck_. That's it," he told her. "Forget all that crap about being linked or bonded or whatever the hell they call it. We're not Vulcans, we don't have to play it their way."

It was then that she realized why the Doctor wanted to keep them in sickbay. The Doctor may have been suspected of being a voyeur, but one thing was certain: Tom was terrified and the Doctor knew it. This was what he wanted to prevent.

"But what if the Doctor is right?" She stood up to emphasize her point. "I don't want to take that risk, do you?"

"Then why aren't we in sickbay right now?" Tom crossed his arms to enforce his.

B'Elanna stopped herself short of calling him an idiot. She couldn't argue with someone who was being irrational. She remembered her experience with the _Pon Farr;_ the urges associated with the condition. The drive to mate was imperative. Maybe he was right. She certainly had no urge to bond with anyone when she went through it.

She glanced over at the device on the nightstand, and hoped to Kahless that Tom was correct, even though she had a nagging suspicion that he was wrong. She would keep the device as a back up plan for when his antics failed.

She crossed the deck and met him eye to eye. "Very well," she said coolly. "You're on."

"B'Elanna!" he roared when she bit him on the face.

She pushed him towards the bed, not giving him a second to think about what just happened.

When he got past the shock of what she had done, he returned the favor and devoured her. With an unrelenting kiss, he spun her around and pushed her backwards onto the bed, never allowing more than a centimeter between their bodies. The moment he had her pinned beneath him, she tried to flip him over.

It didn't work. He had a damn good hold on her wrists and his legs were in such a position where it was impossible to move him.

Frustrated, he let go of her wrists and, in one swift move, yanked her pants and underwear down to her knees.

B'Elanna took the opportunity to maneuver herself into a defensive sitting posture. Never had he taken control like this. She always led the way in the bedroom.

But, not always... not since...

Her apprehension returned, full force. She hated the feeling of being bound up with her own clothes.

Tom looked confused. "Are you alright?"

_She dared not tell him to stop._

But he'd given her an opportunity to regain control so she took it. She lunged at him, pushing him clear onto his back with a loud 'oof'.

He attempted to gain the upper hand again, but she wouldn't have it. She managed to pin him to the mattress and held both his hands above his head.

He tried to say something, but only a whimper escaped his mouth.

She let go of his arms and, mirroring his actions, pulled his uniform past his hips. Her jaw involuntarily dropped when she saw how engorged his penis was. _It had to hurt_.

And she was certain that gawking at him wasn't helping either. She quickly closed her mouth and, before she could do anything else, he scooted towards the headboard. He hugged his knees to his chest defensively, as she had done.

"Easy, Tom," she said, pulling her uniform top off. "I'm not stopping." Not willing to let him continue in his agony, she quickly finished undressing herself.

When she was done, she guided him out of his accordion position for easy access. He didn't resist. But she could tell that it took him every ounce of control not to; he was so completely exposed.

Then, as she leaned in to kiss him, she remembered their conversation earlier: he didn't want pity or comfort. He wanted...

With a sudden burst of energy, Tom Paris flipped his wife onto her back and began to fuck her senseless.

xxx

"Have you heard anything about Tom yet? Rumor has it he contracted the _Tarkalian_ flu."

Tuvok looked at Neelix, clearly not in the mood to talk about it. He didn't eat in literally four days, not since Neelix delivered the bowl of plomeek broth the bridge. That was the only thing keeping him from skipping lunch and going straight to his quarters to meditate.

He didn't want to think about Lieutenant Paris anymore, but others persisted in asking about him. Illogical, since the _Tarkalian_ flu was not contagious between species. But that was the official disinformation Captain Janeway had fed the crew to protect the privacy of everyone involved.

"Mind if I sit down?" Neelix pulled out the chair in front of him.

"You're going to regardless."

He sat in the chair, leaning in to whisper. An illogical mannerism since Vulcan ears could pick up sounds that other humanoids couldn't. "You seem preoccupied."

"Mr. Paris is coping as expected."

Neelix kept his voice low. "You can stop the veiled phrasing. I know what's going on."

Tuvok waited for an explanation.

"He came in here last night looking for a little pick-me-up and left his data PADD behind."

"You read it?"

"I did. I must say, he's a brave man for doing what he did."

Tuvok lowered his eyes back down to his salad. "Mr. Neelix, you should be made aware that it is highly improper for me to be having this conversation with you."

"Then you really did accept his help?"

"I do not wish to discuss it."

"Do you think B'Elanna will be able to help him? I mean, the Vulcan in the story died, didn't he?"

"If you'll excuse me, Mr. Neelix..." Tuvok placed his fork next to his plate, summoning all the control he possibly could. He stood, deciding it best to resume his duties to keep his mind off what he did to Tom Paris. To do otherwise would be illogical. The fate of the Lieutenant was no longer under his control.

Neelix stood to block him. "Someone once told me that Vulcans never lie because they're really bad at it. I think it might have been Tom, actually."

"Your point?"

"Just that I don't think 'coping' is an accurate word for what's going on, is it?"

"Mr. Neelix, this conversation is over."

"You're trying to make it seem less serious than it really is."

"Even if I were..." Tuvok glanced around cautiously, briefly catching the eye of Vorik from across the room. "The mess hall is hardly the place to discuss it."

With that, Tuvok stalked out of the room and into the corridor. Neelix followed at his heels.

"Well, I don't think ignoring the problem is going to make it go away. You passed on a condition that's alien to him and just left him in the care of his wife and a holographic Doctor that barely knows anything about it."

Tuvok stopped in his tracks. In sickbay, he meditated the guilt away, but Neelix had a way of making his emotions resurface. He found it very disconcerting. "How do you know what the Doctor knows about it?"

"Well, I can tell you that it certainly wasn't his medic that thought to look up the story of the Vulcan prince."

Tuvok turned to face Neelix. "You did?" He cocked his brow, waiting.

"Well!" Neelix looked indignant. "It wasn't me. I have too many things to worry about than to be meddling into the affairs of others."

"Are you suggesting that Mr. Paris was set up?"

"Shhhhh!" Neelix motioned wildly for him to keep it down. "You know, for a Chief of Security, you're not very subtle."

Tuvok sighed deeply. "Are you suggesting that someone else tampered with his data PADD after he left?"

Neelix nodded affirmatively.

Tuvok's eyebrow crawled further up his forehead. "Who?"

xxx

Tuvok made his way to Engineering, careful not to break into a run for fear of drawing unwanted attention to himself. When he entered, the person he wanted to speak with was carefully monitoring a Jeffries tube while Icheb efficiently worked fusing wires.

Seven glanced at Tuvok, but continued, unfazed. "May I help you with something, Commander?"

"Forgive the intrusion, Seven. I wanted to know, the neurological interface is channeled through your alcove, correct?"

"If you are referring to the one Lieutenants Paris and Torres are using to cure your _Pon Farr_, then you are correct."

There have been many times when Tuvok appreciated Seven's ability to bluntly factual, and there have been many times when he wished she would be quiet. This was one of those times.

"I was told you would be monitoring their link. Have you been?"

"I have been diverted temporarily by a series of minor malfunctions in this Jefferies tube. It has been challenging considering I am also expected to double as Chief Engineer in Lieutenant Torres' absence."

"Has there been any evidence of sabotage?"

"No. Only clumsiness. This was clearly Ensign Vorik's doing. I've been told by several crew that he had been giving Lieutenant Torres problems all morning. I had given him one last chance after the Doctor mended a plasma burn on his arm. After he did this, I relieved him of duty for the rest of the day."

Tuvok nodded, remembering that he himself had been distracted by the other Vulcan's carelessness enough to let Tom Paris wander off alone with his wife. It was a miracle they made it to sickbay. He pressed his comm badge. "Computer, locate Ensign Vorik."

_::Ensign Vorik is in the mess hall.:: _

Tuvok allowed himself a sigh of relief. _Vorik was not in the cargo bay tampering._

Tuvok considered that Neelix had no solid evidence to prove that Vorik had set Lieutenant Paris up. It was all circumstantial. Neelix had read something over Mr. Paris' shoulder, went to go clean up a mess in his kitchen, and then, afterwards, had read the same data PADD with something entirely different on it. Mr. Paris had likely put it there himself. The fact that Vorik desired to bond with Ms. Torres years before and happened to be in the mess hall that night only served to feed Neelix's paranoia.

It was a closed case. The only thing left to do was to physically verify Vorik's location and _leave him alone_.

"Can I assist you with anything else, Commander?

"No. Thank you, Seven. You have been most helpful." Tuvok left engineering, still having no one to blame but himself, yet relieved that the Lieutenant's plan would go unhindered.

xxx

_Seven times_. Once for every year those pain-in-the-ass Vulcans had the luxury of living without _Pon Farr_.

_If only we had seven years between cycles_, B'Elanna thought, _at least Vulcans knew when to expect it._

B'Elanna had pulled Tom into the shower with her, set it to cold, and hoped she would at least get a few minutes to come up with a better plan.

"B'Elanna..." Tom shivered when the cold water hit his back. He braced himself against the tiled wall and looked down at both of their naked bodies. He was still painfully erect with no relief in sight, and she...

Tom's eyes went wide when he saw her blood trickle down the inside of her leg and into the drain. "You're bleeding, oh, god..."

B'Elanna caught a glimpse of the guilt in his face when he turned away from her to hug the shower wall.

"I'm Klingon, I can take it." Her voice was flat and absent of honesty.

Rightfully, she could tell he wasn't buying it. After a few moments of getting no reaction, B'Elanna could hear his breath catch and then...

He was crying. _Tom was crying._

And she hadn't a clue what to do. If she tried to hold him, she knew damn well what would happen and, obviously, _that plan_ wasn't working. _Painfully_ not working. His condition seemed to be stagnating at best, and sometimes it felt like he was getting worse.

"Hey, Tom..." She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder anyhow, but he shrank away from her. His knees buckled and he slid down the wall into a fetal position. He still wept as thought it were the only thing left to do.

_Maybe it was._

She didn't like that thought at all.

But one thing she had in common with Tom is that they both knew there were always alternatives. She considered that for a moment, and realized something that she should've figured out from the very beginning...

_Tom was trying to protect her. _He knew that she would have tried to take his place. She would have convinced the Doctor to let Tuvok meld with her instead. She would have reasoned that they knew what to expect with her. She would be the only 'logical' choice. The Doctor would have bought it.

She backed off from him and reached for her towel, not caring that she would stain it. Wrapping herself, she stumbled out of the bathroom and went for her comm badge. Still not sure what would result in her calling the Doctor, she made her choice. He would at least agree that they both needed medical help at this point.

"Torres to the Doctor." She hated the sound of her voice at that moment. Desperate. Frightened.

_::Lieutenant, is there are reason why you two haven't even touched the neurogenic interface that Seven was kind enough to provide?::_

"Save it, Doctor. We don't need to be talking about this over an open frequency. Could you come to our quarters, please."

There was a long pause, and then...

_::I have a better idea, how about I beam you both back to sickbay where you belong?::_

The words were harsh, but there was nothing abrasive in his tone. The Doctor was hearing her loud and clear.

But she didn't want to go to sickbay.

B'Elanna began to count back from ten, hoping to regain some composure. When she reached the number seven, she whipped her comm badge across the room. It smacked right into the picture of her and Tom on their honeymoon and knocked it to the floor.

It was the last thing she saw before the transporter took her.


	5. Hurt, Comfort, & FSM

When B'Elanna materialized in sickbay, the first thing she noticed was that Tom was also transported, directly out of their shower, naked, and onto the main bio-bed for all to see.

"Doctor!" She moved protectively in front of Tom, almost giving up her towel but remembering she was also naked underneath.

The Doctor stood before them and rolled his eyes. "Please, Lieutenant. I'm a Doctor." He picked up the nearest tricorder and scanned Tom first.

Tom, still dazed from being transported unexpectedly, pushed himself off the biobed and scurried behind it as though it provided him with cover from the Doctor's scrutiny.

"Don't touch me," he shouted. "Please. Just help B'Elanna. She's hurt."

The Doctor scanned B'Elanna and frowned. "Are you alright, Lieutenant?"

"I'm fine. Just worry about him and let me get cleaned up." She pushed the tricorder away and stumbled towards the sickbay bathroom. She bumped into the main diagnostic console and tripped. She lost her grip on her towel when she fell to the deck.

The Doctor moved to help her off the floor, but she scurried away from his reach and pulled the towel back around her. "I said, leave me alone!"

The Doctor stepped back. "You're not going anywhere, Lieutenant." He glanced at Tom who looked horrified and confused all at once. "That's an order from the Chief Medical Officer. You will stay here and submit to an exam after I deal with Mr. Paris. Understood?"

B'Elanna held back tears that she couldn't think of any good reason for. "Understood." Her voice shook.

The Doctor turned just in time to catch Tom moving towards her. He stepped right in his path. "Before you say anything, this ends right here. You're in no condition to do anything to help her. You're going to go into my office, put some clothes on, and I'm going to attempt to stabilize your serotonin levels before you do something you'll regret."

Tom let out a frustrated groan and crossed his arms over his chest as though they were a security blanket.

"If you haven't already." The Doctor ushered him into the other room.

xxx

Lieutenant Paris was many things: illogical, irrational, and very much out of control most of the time. _But he was just a boy, _Tuvok brooded on his way to sickbay.

The Doctor had requested that he offer counsel and support for Lieutenant Paris since the first attempt at mating was not effective in resolving his _Pon Farr_.

No. That wasn't correct. It wasn't Tom's _Pon Farr_, it was _his_.

Tuvok wondered what kind of counsel he could possibly offer that would help the situation.

In a data stream from Earth last year, he learned that his oldest son, Sek, underwent _Pon Farr_, married, and lived through it without incident. It happened to Sek naturally. It was not induced through an invasive mind meld, and Sek and his bondmate had sixty years to prepare themselves mentally and physically. He wondered how he would have reacted if another Vulcan had come along and induced it in Sek the way he had done with Tom Paris. The thought nearly broke his resolve.

When he entered sickbay, Tom lay on on his stomach on a biobed. His symptoms had become obvious; the sweating, heavy breathing, the shaking...

He was focusing hard on a random object that Tuvok couldn't discern. Although, Mr. Paris most likely had no conscious realization that he was actually meditating. Nevertheless, Tuvok approached him accordingly and cleared his throat loud enough to let the other man know he was present, yet quiet enough not to startle him.

"Forgive the intrusion, Lieutenant," Tuvok said when he blinked in response.

"It's an open sickbay. Everyone's welcome."

"Where is B'Elanna?"

Tom's hand curled around the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I gave her a mild sedative and sent her to her quarters for a nap," came the Doctor's voice from behind him. "Interesting. Mr. Paris hasn't said a word until you arrived here. Although, I never thought I'd consider it a bad thing."

"How is he doing?"

"His brain chemistry is stable for the moment, but if something isn't done soon, he's going to be worse off than before."

"How bad was he before?" Tuvok realized that it wasn't his business, but he had to know.

"Please don't talk about me like I'm a lab specimen. I'm right here."

"Well," the Doctor huffed, "I'll let Mr. Paris explain it to you. I'll be at my desk if you need me." He left them alone.

"How are you feeling, Lieutenant?"

"Like I want to hump this biobed, Tuvok. How do you think I feel?"

"Indeed. Have you had any luck?"

Tom clenched the bed tighter. "Well she's firm enough to handle me, but she seriously lacks a vagina. I don't think it's going to work out."

"There's always the holodeck," Tuvok suggested.

"Now why didn't I think of that before? I would have saved myself some pain."

"What do you mean?"

"I really screwed up. No pun intended."

"How so?"

"When it was time, I don't know what I was thinking... I think I was just scared..."

Tuvok waited.

"I convinced her that we should have sex without the interface."

"And that's why you're here? When you discovered it wasn't working without it, why didn't you try it then?"

"Because..." His breathing got steadily worse. "I hurt her. I'm not sure when... It's all a blur, but we were going at it for hours. It was so frustrating. I couldn't control myself."

Tuvok felt deeply concerned. There had been times with him when the _Pon Farr_ had been cured with only one or two encounters. A normal _Pon Farr_ never required anything more.

But, of course, what Tom was experiencing was the result of a purging meld. Something highly forbidden. It was rumored that certain sects within the ruling elite would practice it, but no one dared speak of it. No one understood just how many problems it caused.

"You said you hurt her?" Tuvok kept the subject on B'Elanna.

Tom looked ashamed. "I took her so hard I made her bleed." His eyes implored Tuvok to tell him that was normal for what he was going through.

Tuvok didn't know. "Did she tell you to stop?" He asked instead.

"I don't remember." Tom closed his eyes. "I... remember that I was so focused on trying to end this..." Tom began to shake and tears began to stream from the corner of his eyes. "Torture. It hurts, Tuvok..." He wiped the stray tears from his face, but more quickly replaced them.

Tuvok suspected he needed the release, but in Tom's normal state of mind, he would never let anyone see him this discomposed. Tuvok found it disturbing.

"Did... did I..."

Tuvok stepped closer and knelt in front of him, unsure of what he could possibly do to console him. If Tom were Vulcan, he could help him meditate. But being human...

"Did you what, Tom?" He placed his hand on Tom's shoulder.

"Did I rape her, Tuvok?" Tom covered his face in his hands, unable to control his crying anymore.

Tuvok didn't have an answer for him. This situation was spiraling out of control fast. If he could take his _Pon Farr_ back, he gladly would. And perish if he had to. It would have been preferable to seeing Tom go through this.

"Listen to me." Tuvok pulled Tom's hands away from his face. He held onto them tightly to keep Tom's attention on what he was about to tell him. "Whatever happened between you and your wife is over. You are not yourself right now. You are suffering from something that is seriously affecting your judgement. Also, if B'Elanna wanted you to stop, I am certain she would have incapacitated you."

Tom shook his head to the contrary as though he wanted to say something but not sure how to say it.

"You do not agree?" Tuvok let go of Tom.

"If you're so certain she would have incapacitated me, why'd you even bother to ask if she'd told me to stop?"

_What if Tom did rape his wife? Would he be just as guilty?_ Tuvok didn't want to say what was on his mind. "I should have never allowed myself to think this was an acceptable solution to my dilemma," he told him instead. "I am sorry for all the pain I have caused you."

Tom only choked back a sob as a particularly harsh tremor wracked his body.

Tuvok watched Tom cry himself to sleep.

xxx

"Enter." B'Elanna stood upon hearing the door chime. She had managed to clean herself up and get dressed into uniform. It was pointless of her to wear it, but the formality made her feel better.

The door whooshed open and Captain Janeway stood there, looking concerned as ever.

"Captain." B'Elanna glanced around frantically at the state of her quarters: unmade bed stained red and white, a broken picture of her and Tom on their coffee table, and a set of uniforms in a heap on the floor... "I'm sorry for the mess. I..."

"At ease, Lieutenant," Janeway said. "May I come in?"

B'Elanna nodded. "Of Course."

The Captain stepped in and went straight to the point. "I received a report from the Doctor that you and Tom are having difficulty resolving his... problem."

"Captain I..."

Janeway held up her hand, silencing her. "I have to ask, why didn't you stick to the original plan the Doctor had prescribed?"

B'Elanna looked down at her folded hands. "I just thought we needed some more privacy..."

"I'm not talking about the fact that you changed location," the Captain said. "I think that was probably a good idea. I'm talking about not using the neurogenic interface that Seven provided."

B'Elanna wasn't sure how to answer.

"B'Elanna, I'll admit I don't know a lot about Vulcan mysticism, but what I do know is that when a Vulcan says a task needs to carried out, they mean it."

"Captain, I don't know what to do. He thinks that all he needs is..." She trailed off, closer to crying than she ever wanted the other woman to see. B'Elanna turned away to focus on the viewport.

"Needs to what? Use you as a masturbation toy? Cause you to bleed?"

That did it. B'Elanna couldn't hold her tears back any longer. She buried her face in her hands.

Captain Janeway pulled her into a much needed embrace. "Listen, I know that Tom loves you very much, and he didn't mean to hurt you. You understand what he's going through more than I'll ever know. But something is horribly wrong here and if it isn't fixed soon, your husband could die and I'll be short a medical assistant and a damn good pilot."

She waited for B'Elanna to calm down a little before pulling away. "When we spoke earlier I'll admit I was insensitive to what you must be feeling about this whole situation. I was relieved that the life of a dear friend was saved and I honestly thought that everything was going to be alright. I had no idea that this would happen."

B'Elanna wiped her eyes with her sleeve and stared numbly at her feet. "I think he's afraid of the interface."

"Why? Do you think it's because of the Alice incident?"

B'Elanna shook her head. "Possibly. But I think it's more than that. We've had a long history of problems."

"Every couple has a long history of problems, B'Elanna. It wouldn't be normal if you didn't."

"Are you looking for some specific answer, Captain? I don't have one. In the beginning, he was so in love with me. And protective..."

Janeway looked concerned.

"In a good way," B'Elanna said. "He was always willing to defend my honor."

"And he's not now?"

"He always finds some obsession and I get left on the back burner. I'm what he comes back to whenever he gets bored with whatever he's playing with."

"When did that begin?"

B'Elanna closed her eyes and thought about it. "After the Hirogen incident," she said finally.

Captain Janeway thought back for a moment. They had many incidents with Hirogen. But she knew which one B'Elanna was talking about: _The_ Hirogen Incident. The one when the Hirogen managed to invade their ship. No. _Their home_. And then use them for hunting games. Some of the crew were used to carry out normal operations on the ship while others were forced into wearing neural interfaces that made them think they were characters on the holodeck.

"When the neural interfaces were disabled we were playing out a World War Two simulation," Janway said. "You were with Tom on the holodeck... Your character was pregnant, as I recall."

B'Elanna nodded. It wasn't the fondest memory her and Tom ever shared. But... "It was the last time he ever really defended me. Then, after the Hirogen went their way, he retreated to the holodeck..."

"Which is exactly where no one else wanted to be at the time," Janeway continued for her. "And, right after the incident with the Hirogen, we ran into Steth..."

"Don't make me talk about that Captain." She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes scanned the room for a clear path to the bathroom. She was getting dry heaves just thinking about...

The Captain's eyes widened at B'Elanna's reaction. "Okay, just breathe with me, B'Elanna. This is important. Something happened with Steth that you obviously don't want to talk about, but I think it needs to be brought out in the open."

B'Elanna felt fresh tears fall down her face. "I really thought it was Tom," she said. "And afterwards, I made excuses for everything he did."

Janeway looked genuinely startled. "B'Elanna, the alien took advantage...?"

The truth came out like a flood. "It felt wrong, so I told him to stop..."

"But... he didn't?"

"No," B'Elanna cried. "He told me I was a hot Klingon and that I liked it rough."

"_Go on._" Janeway couldn't keep the anger out of her voice.

"I was afraid."

"Did you think he was going to kill you?"

She shook her head. "I thought if I told him to stop again he wouldn't..."

"And that you would have good reason to never trust anyone again," Janeway finished for her. "When you were with Tom earlier today, did you ever tell him to stop?"

B'Elanna shook her head, unwilling to acknowledge the connection.

"But did you want him to?"

"In his condition, Captain? No. I just want to help him."

"I'm not asking about your moral obligations. You're not making love if it's something you don't want to do. You're not a holodeck character, B'Elanna. You just can't keep going like that."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I think the solution is obvious. He needs to be linked to you through the neurogenic interface no matter what kind of fuss he makes."

"Are you going to hold him down, Captain?"

"If I have to. He wouldn't be the first officer I've had to sit on."

B'Elanna didn't doubt her for a second. She let out a small laugh though her tears.

"Come on," the Captain said. "Let's get this place cleaned up. Somehow I think you're going to learn a lot about your husband once that link is in place and there won't be anymore reason for him to go hiding in the holodeck."

xxx

An hour later, the only thing left for B'Elanna to do was wait. She had stopped by sickbay to see how Tom was doing and found him in a feverish deep sleep. The Doctor told her that he would wake him up within the next hour if he didn't on his own. It gave her a little time to go to the mess hall and get something to eat.

"Is this seat taken?" That voice made the hairs on her hair stand up.

B'Elanna looked up at Vorik. "No." She stood, ready to give up the entire table for the Vulcan.

"Lieutenant, I've figured out what's going on with Lieutenant Paris."

B'Elanna sighed her most exasperated sigh and sat back down. She winced slightly from the pain.

Vorik sat across from her and let the awkward silence stretch on for at least five unbearable seconds. And then, "This morning, you asked me about the story of the Vulcan Prince, and then in sickbay the Doctor was preparing to transport you and him to your quarters, coupled with the fact that Captain Janeway had told the crew that Commander Tuvok had the _Tarkalian _flu and that Lieutenant Paris had it also. Logic would dictate that the flu story is a cover up for what really happened."

"Your point, Vorik?"

"You're chosen mate is a brave man for doing what he did."

"And...?"

"And the likelihood of him surviving a purging meld without the proper guidance is very small."

"Let me guess. You have some proper guidance to give?"

Vorik shook his head. "I was hoping Commander Tuvok would fulfill that role. Unfortunately, I have none."

"Then why are you talking to me?"

"I want to apologize."

"For what?"

"Everything. For trying to court you without telling you the truth about our mating practices, for ever putting my hands on you, and for causing you to hate me."

B'Elanna was taken aback. "I - I don't hate you," she stammered.

"Logic has showed me over the past few years that you do, indeed, hate me. I was wrong to ever think that we would make a good match just because my Vulcan training would help you control your Klingon half. I have grown to realize that that part of you is something that you should..."

B'Elanna held up a hand, cutting him off. "Vorik."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"You also talk too much and never let me get a word in edgewise. That is another, _very significant_, reason why we would have never worked. You simply don't know when to shut up."

Vorik opened his mouth to retort, then, wisely, closed his mouth again.

"Apology accepted," B'Elanna said.

For a Vulcan, Vorik looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. B'Elanna simply smiled at him and poked her spaghetti with her fork.

"Thank you," Vorik said. "And I hope your husband gets better, B'Elanna."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I mean it, who else would fly the ship?"

"Well, thanks for caring." B'Elanna had as much spaghetti as she could take. When she put her fork down and pushed herself up from her chair. "If you will excuse me, Vorik. I'm needed in sickbay."

Vorik stood also, nodding.

After B'Elanna went to dispose of her plate, she heard Vorik clear his throat behind her. _Doesn't he ever stop?_ She wondered.

"Lieutenant, you dropped something."

"Oh." She turned back to him to find him holding out a small device to her. The neurogenic interface. "I'll be needing that. Thank you." She took the device and put it back in her pocket with the other one.

A curious look spread over Vorik's face. "That was the device Seven of Nine was working on in sickbay earlier. Borg technology?"

"Not your concern, Ensign."

"Very well then, I hope your attempts at bonding with your husband increase his probability of survival."

_And I hope your attempts at shutting up increase yours_, she projected. She faked a tight-lipped grin and brushed past him. "Good night, Vorik."

xxx

When B'Elanna was gone, Neelix poked his nose out of his kitchen and scanned the room. He fixed his eyes on Vorik.

"Look at you, Ensign." He stalked out into the open and stood half a foot lower than Vorik, yet still ready and willing for a showdown. His nostrils flared. "Suddenly apologizing to her when her husband is in sickbay dying. Shouldn't you have done that years ago, you manipulative little," he searched for the right word, "_jellyfish!_"

Vorik just looked at Neelix, brow raised. "Have you been eavesdropping?"

"The very idea!" Neelix felt insulted. "You set Tom up so you could get him out of the picture and have B'Elanna all to yourself."

Vorik stepped back one pace. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Jealously is a dangerous thing, Ensign. It makes you act possessive, overbearing, and just outright stupid!" Neelix shouted loud enough to draw in the attention of the crowd that had gathered for dinner. He didn't give a flying fur-ball. The whole room went silent.

"You are causing a scene." Vorik's eyes narrowed.

"I'll show you a scene!" Neelix was so furious he grabbed the nearest vegetable off Chel's plate. "This is for Tom!" He slapped Vorik with it.

The tomato impacted on Vorik's jaw with a loud _splat_. He stumbled backwards into Henley's table.

Vorik regained his footing quickly and assumed a defensive posture. Neelix advanced on him with a plate full of freshly replicated BLT sandwiches off the Bajoran table. "This is for B'Elanna!" He yelled.

Vorik ducked and lunged for Neelix's ankles, sending him sprawling forward onto the deck. The plate went flying and landed on a group of crewmen from Astrometrics, who, in turn, went scurrying for cover.

Then a random bowl of angel hair pasta soared through the air from the back of the room. Someone yelled, "Yo! This is for Harry!"

The mess hall erupted into one big, nasty food fight. With the distraction of the new chaos, Vorik scrambled across the deck to find shelter from the angry Talaxian.

Neelix managed to get back on his feet and advanced on Vorik with an armful of leola root he grabbed from his kitchen.

He was cut short when someone grabbed both his shoulders from behind, causing him to drop the contents of his arms. "Hold your fire. You're coming with me," said Lieutenant Ayala in his ear.

In a flash, security was was all over the mess hall like Borg on a new planet. Neelix sighed to himself, realizing the only redeeming grace was that Vorik would be stuffed in the brig with him.

At least for an hour or so. Not long enough as far as Neelix was concerned...


	6. Orders

B'Elanna expected Tom to already be awake when she got to sickbay. The plan was for the Doctor to get him to eat something before she arrived since her presence would be too distracting for him. Given what happened earlier, she really had nothing to argue about.

But, she didn't _want_ to stay away any longer. Roaming the halls of Voyager only caused her worry more about Tom and how he may have interpreted her reaction before. She decided not to wait for the Doctor's call.

When she arrived, the first thing she noticed was that it smelled like Tom. Nothing the others might have picked up on, but her Klingon side gave her the ability to track her mate a mile away. In his condition, his pheromones were very potent. And quite manly.

She scanned the room. Captain Janeway and Tuvok were with the Doctor conversing quietly by the biobeds and Tom was alone at the Doctor's desk, sipping a bowl of soup. His hair was damp and his eyes sunken, but there was something about what the _Pon Farr_ was doing to him that made him... beautiful. She wondered if she looked like that when she...

He dropped his spoon and fixated on her.

She followed her own instinct and stepped towards him.

"I didn't call you, Lieutenant." The Doctor intercepted her. "He needs to get some nourishment before your next attempt at mating. I thought you understood that."

"He's not a prisoner, Doctor. I don't think treating him like one is going to help."

"I think they'll be alright, Doctor." Captain Janeway stepped towards them. B'Elanna could see she wasn't going to put up with any nonsense.

"Very well, then." The Doctor retreated to a console near one of the biobeds where he began some routine calibrations. "But don't blame me if this gets out of hand," he muttered.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Don't worry. If things get out of hand, that's what we're here for."

B'Elanna turned back around to see that Tom had gotten out of his chair, standing with his back towards everyone. She knew he didn't like to be talked about as if he wasn't there. Her exchange with the Doctor might have upset him.

Cautiously, she crossed the deck into the office, clearing her throat to let him know she was right behind him. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Sure. Just another day on the job. Nothing I can't handle..." Another tremor caused his breath to catch.

She wondered why she even bothered to ask. She should have counted on his ability to diffuse any serious moment with his sarcasm. Not this time. "Do you even want my help?"

_That_ caught his attention. He turned around. She noted that his sickbay clothes stuck out like a pop-tent. He was damp with sweat and there was a tell-tale wet spot just below his belly button. She imagined he must have spent the last hour ducking behind furniture with his back towards everyone.

"You know I didn't mean to hurt you." His shaky voice brought her attention back to his face.

"That doesn't matter now," she said. "Do you want my help?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"There are always choices, Tom. You chose to do this. And if you choose to repeat what happened this afternoon, I'm sure you have a whole collection of holodeck characters to choose from."

She watched him closely. Tears welled up in his eyes and he wiped them away quickly. But she saw them. They were telling.

"I want you to help me," he said finally. _Bravely_.

B'Elanna closed the distance between them, their bodies just inches apart. She put her hand over the spot on his face where she marked him earlier. "Look at me," she said.

Tentatively, he looked down at her.

"I love you, Tom. Trust me."

He tried to look away, but she blocked him.

Then, his breath caught and his muscles tensed. He squeezed his eyes shut. A soft, involuntary moan escaped his mouth.

_Did he just...? _B'Elanna glanced around to make sure no one was watching him.

Tom's knees started to buckle. B'Elanna quickly guided him back into the chair. She knelt in front of him, holding his arms in an effort to help him get some control over his body. Sweat poured down the side of his face and his breathing had become ridiculous. He leaned forward, covering his face in his hands.

The Doctor had slipped into the office. He held out a tricorder and began scanning while Tuvok and the Captain rushed in to join them.

"What's wrong with him?" B'Elanna asked.

"He's in a state of hyper-stimulation. It appears he is entering the final stages."

"The blood fever," Tuvok confirmed. "I did warn that the _Pon Farr_ would be severe for him. I doubt he will be able to speak."

"Well, isn't that a blessing." The Doctor snapped off his tricorder. "However, since it has progressed this far, I do not think it's wise for me to allow you two to return to your quarters, Lieutenant."

"Doctor," Captain Janeway said before B'Elanna could open her mouth, "They deserve more privacy than what you're allowing them."

"What do you propose we do, Captain? In sickbay I can sustain his life indefinitely. Any place else, we're inviting disaster."

B'Elanna couldn't look at her husband and come up with an honest argument that would appease the Doctor. "We need to be alone," was all she said. "_Right now._"

"Very well, then. But you're both going to put the interface on before I transport you. And no removing the cortical monitor, either. In fact, if either device get's removed I will transport you both back here no matter what you are doing."

Under the circumstances, the idea seemed reasonable. Perverted. But reasonable. "Fine. But if you ever have to do that, just remember I know how your program works and I'm not above revenge."

"Well, let's just hope it won't come to that. For both our sakes."

B'Elanna turned back to her husband and gently pried his hands away from his face. "We're going to put the interface on you now."

Panicked, Tom yanked his hands out of B'Elanna's grasp and stumbled out of his seat.

Tuvok blocked him before he could reach the door. "You're not going to make me a murderer." Tuvok maneuvered him into a hold, pinning his arms behind his back with his front exposed to everyone. "Not under my watch," he said right in his ear.

B'Elanna pushed herself back to her feet and stood in front of Tom, hoping to give him some cover.

"Quickly, B'Elanna," Captain Janeway said. "The faster we get the neurogenic interface on him, the faster you won't have to worry about him being exposed like this."

Janeway had a point. "Right." B'Elanna fished through her pocket. A quick second later, she produced the two neurogenic devices. She handed one to Captain Janeway and stuck the other on her own temple, not activating it yet.

Captain Janeway stepped between B'Elanna and Tom. He struggled, but Tuvok kept him from any extreme movement. When she cleared her throat, he stopped and tried his damnedest to stand at attention.

"Mr. Paris, this needs to stop at once." She meant _business_. "You did this as a medic serving under the Chief Medical Officer on board this ship and you will carry out the plan already in place to rid yourself of this condition. I don't need to remind you what's at stake. Do I make myself clear?"

He tried to say 'yes, ma'am', but no sound came out.

"Consider that an order, Lieutenant." It was like she kicked a puppy. B'Elanna was torn between wanting to thank her and wanting to knock her out. Tom looked down, shame-faced.

The Captain reached up and placed her index finger under his chin. She nudged his face upwards so she could get a good look at him. Tears streaked down his cheeks. His eyes were damp and red around the edges.

Her expression softened a little. She guided his face to the side. He shifted nervously. Tuvok adjusted his hold, but gave him no chance to even think about escape.

The Captain placed the neurogenic interface on his temple and quickly activated it. Before she released him, she gently ran her hand through the damp hair on the side of his head, like a mother would a child.

The Captain backed away.

Once B'Elanna was certain Tom wasn't going to fight anymore, she positioned her hand over the device on her head and... had a horrible thought.

"Doctor. What if this does to me what Vorik did to me?"

It was too late to even regret asking. The sound of Tom's frustrated cry filled the room. His struggling became adamant.

Tuvok calmly adjusted his hold on Tom. "I believe we may have found the reason for Mr. Paris' reluctance to wear the neurogenic interface. Undoubtedly, he didn't consider that possibility until after I melded with him."

"I've already thought of that, Lieutenant," the Doctor said. "The chances of this having the same effect on you are very small. I had Seven compensate for the possibility when she put the devices together." The Doctor turned to Tom, who was desperately trying to push Tuvok off him. "Mr. Paris, please try to stay calm. I realize at this point it's very hard for you, but if we don't carry out this plan, the _Pon Farr_ will kill you."

"What's the probability of this happening to me, Doctor?"

The Doctor hesitated. "Can we talk about this in the other room?"

B'Elanna glanced at her frantic husband. Tuvok had guided him to to floor, careful not to let go of his wrists in case he ripped the neurogenic device off his face.

"We don't have time for this. I need to know what's going to happen to us once this thing is activated. Just give me a number, Doctor."

"Forty-seven percent."

B'Elanna was incredulous. "That's almost like flipping a coin!"

"However, in the event that you experience a disruption of your control, the situation will correct itself while you are helping him."

"He did this to himself to prevent me from volunteering to help Tuvok. He didn't have to go through this. _I_ could have helped him."

The sound of Tom's crying served to enforce the burden of guilt she had placed on the Doctor. The Doctor looked down at his tricorder, but didn't read it. It was more of a diversion to keep him from looking at Tom and B'Elanna.

There was nothing left to do. B'Elanna reached up and activated the neurogenic interface and, like a shock wave from a supernova, a myriad of emotion hit B'Elanna and, she was sure, disrupted all of her control.

When she recovered from the initial barrage, she knelt protectively in front of Tom. Tuvok smartly let go of him and the Captain backed off.

Being freed, Tom reached for the device on his temple, but B'Elanna was too quick. She grabbed him by the wrists, flipping him onto his back so he couldn't counter her. He let out a loud yelp. She pinned him with his arms above his head so she was almost on top of him.

"Stop fighting me," she said.

"I think it's time to transport them," came the Captain's rushed voice from somewhere behind her.

"Agreed," she heard Tuvok say.

It all didn't matter anymore. Her mate was under her control and scared out of his mind.

xxx

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll handle this from here." Chakotay nodded and Ayala left the conference room.

He turned to where Neelix and Vorik stood at attention, both looking smug and guilty in their own unique way. He sighed deeply, ready to knock their heads together. "Who started it? I want the truth."

Neelix looked down at his feet. "I did, sir."

"Why?"

He looked back at Chakotay. "Do you really want to know? Or are you just going to assume I'm jumping to conclusions like everyone else?"

Vorik raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I really want to know," Chakotay said.

"You know what's going on with Lieutenant Paris, right?"

Chakotay nodded and felt a surge of empathy for Tom and B'Elanna since the Doctor's last report on their situation was not good. He didn't want to divulge any information. He was more interested in finding out what they already knew so he could practice a little damage control. "The Captain mentioned it, yes."

Neelix's face scrunched up into a scowl. He turned on Vorik and pointed right at him. "It's all his fault! If he didn't just mind his own business..."

"Hold on, Neelix," Chakotay cut him off quickly. "Everything Tom did was by his decision. I don't think dragging other crew members into it is going to help the situation. It's a wonder the whole ship doesn't know about it by now."

"He dragged himself into it." Neelix's voice was low and seething. "He's been after Lieutenant Torres for a long time and when he saw an opportunity to kill off Tom he took it."

Chakotay threw up his hands, exasperated. "It wasn't even his _Pon Farr_ that caused this. How can you say that?"

"He set him up. He tampered with Tom's data PADD last night so that Tom knew how to help Tuvok."

_How did Neelix know anything?_ Chakotay wondered. _But then again, what if what he was saying was true? What if Vorik did set him up? It would be negligent to not get to the bottom of this. _He turned to Vorik, who stood motionless and stoic. "Is this true?"

Vorik nodded. "If you look at the flight recorder visual, you will find that it is true that I called up information on Lieutenant Paris' data PADD last night. However, I fail to understand why my motives are being questioned. Lieutenant Paris was searching for a solution to a medical dilemma, and I provided him with one. Surely, you must see the logic in what I did. Lieutenant-Commander Tuvok would have died had I not stepped in."

Chakotay let out a deep breath. "Neelix." He turned back to him. "I want you to go back to the mess hall and clean up that mess."

"Commander, I..."

Chakotay stopped himself short of smacking Neelix. "This ends right here. What Tom and B'Elanna are dealing with is bad enough. They don't need the added burden of everyone on the ship hearing about it. When I say clean up the mess, I mean, _clean up the damn mess_." Chakotay waited to see if Neelix got his double meaning. "Dismissed," he said when he was certain that Neelix understood.

Neelix grumbled and left the room.

Chakotay tried to rub away the encroaching headache as he turned back to Ensign Vorik. He didn't like where this was going. One thing that could be said for Neelix was that his instinct was always right in matters such as this. It was usually his reaction that was out control.

Chakotay needed to drag the truth out of Vorik without violating his rights as a member of the crew. That was the tricky part. As a Maquis Captain, he could have just slugged him and called it a day.

"Are you finished with me, sir?"

"Not at all, Ensign. I actually have some questions for you to answer. Have a seat." Chakotay motioned for Vorik to sit at the conference table.

"I prefer to stand, sir."

"Very well." Chakotay crossed his arms. "I want to know why Seven relieved you of duty earlier today."

"I believe the answer is in her report, sir."

"I wasn't asking her, I was asking you. Now stop dodging my questions."

"I - didn't get enough sleep last night." His stammer was subtle, but Chakotay caught it.

"Really? I happen to know that Vulcans can go a long time without sleep and not make some of the mistakes you made today. Is something wrong, Ensign?"

"Nothing is wrong, I..."

"You... what? Ensign, I'm going to be honest with you. I think Neelix, in his own way, might be onto something."

Vorik opened his mouth to reply.

"Let me finish. As the first officer, I am grateful that you helped Tom find a way to help Tuvok. He's not only a colleague, but I also consider him a friend. And I also consider Tom Paris a friend. So please forgive me for asking, but... do you _want_ him to die?"

"No," Vorik answered immediately. "You have to believe me, sir. I had no intention to hurt anyone. I thought that because he was married, he was the logical person to help Commander Tuvok."

"But the Vulcan in the story died, Vorik."

"It was lack of knowledge that killed Suleek. Every Vulcan, including Tuvok, understands that. Suleek didn't know what he needed to do to help himself."

"Yeah, well speaking of lack of knowledge, how _did_ you know Tuvok was experiencing _Pon Farr_? I would never have guessed. I thought he had the Tarkailian flu."

"I..." Vorik seemed at a loss for words.

"Did anyone tell you?"

"I guess logic told me. When I saw Lieutenant Paris' data PADD, I just knew..."

"It sounds to me like you were acting on instinct and then came up with an excuse for yourself that sounded logical."

Vorik looked down at his feet.

Chakotay knew he had him stumped, but continued anyway. "I don't mean to sound patronizing, Ensign, but I just can't ignore the fact that Seven actually had to relieve you of duty. Your performance record in Engineering, up until today, has been flawless."

Chakotay paused long enough to let his words sink in, then dropped the bomb: "Do you think you're emotionally compromised?"

"I - I..." Vorik stammered. "I think it's a possibility, sir."

"Then I'm going to have to order you to report to sickbay. If something is wrong, we need to get to the bottom of it before it gets out of control."

Vorik nodded, more to himself than to Chakotay. "I understand, sir."

"Good. Just do me a favor..."

"Sir?"

"Wait here while I inform the Doctor that he should be expecting you. I don't think I should have to tell you why."

Vorik nodded again and Chakotay decided it best not to let Vorik out of his site. At least until Tom's crisis was over.


	7. Hyperstimulation

B'Elanna was grateful that Captain Janeway had the presence of mind to transport them quickly. When they materialized on their bed, Tom tried to push her off, but his condition had deteriorated to the point where he didn't have the strength to counter her.

_Let go!_ _B'Elanna…!  
_

"Don't sever our link." She bore down on his wrists. "Promise me." She squeezed his them harder, hoping to convey to him that it was very important that he not act out of fear. He couldn't handle being held down. She leaned in and kissed him to show that she wasn't trying to hurt him.

It backfired. He reacted wildly, thrusting his hips against her thigh, almost frantically. He didn't have the ability to stop himself. He let out a moan of frustration. The wave of fear from him was unlike anything she had ever felt.

She tried hard to ignore what he was doing, willing him to focus on her voice. "Whatever this link can do to me has been done already," she said emphatically. "Promise me."

_I promise. _He desperately tried to slow his movements, remembering his lack of control when they tried to end the _Pon Farr_ earlier. She could sense his guilt.

She let go of his wrists.

He raised his hand to the side of his face, but B'Elanna quickly slapped it away without thinking. "Do you want to be transported back to sickbay?"

Tom just looked at her, unable to say anything and slightly stunned at what she had done.

"I'm sorry." B'Elanna got the sense that he needed a minute to adjust. "Just... please…" She put a comforting hand on the side of his face. He flinched for a moment, but didn't fight her. He wanted her to comfort him. He reached up and held onto her hand. "Trust me," she said gently.

He didn't seem to have much coherent thought that she could pick up, just raw emotion; bits and pieces of things that scared him at the moment. His body felt alien to him, and... He didn't know if he had made a costly mistake earlier.

"I never told you to stop," she said.

It didn't matter. He didn't know if he would've stopped if she told him. That's what terrified him the most and caused her to doubt. She held on to the idea that no matter what he did, the _Pon Farr_ was to blame, not him.

But then, something began to gnaw at her. From the back of her mind, B'Elanna unintentionally remembered her conversation with the Captain. _About the alien that called himself Steth._ She tried to dismiss the thought as quickly as it came, but she sensed another wave of guilt from Tom. A quick memory of his flashed through her mind; of Captain Janeway's voice saying, _Give B'Elanna my regards... _a little snicker.

_What did he...? _Tom looked up at her, trying hard to concentrate on their mental link instead of what was happening to him physically. She could see the strain in his face as he pushed himself up on his elbows so he could be at her level.

The memories began to resurface; Tom was intentionally drawing them from her, into the open: the feeling of being touched by familiar, yet alien, hands; of being undressed; of knowing something was wrong but not being able to identify it...

B'Elanna felt a surge of primal jealousy from Tom. His expression twisted into one of pure anger. _How far did he...?_

She tried to keep it from him, but he pulled the memory to the front of her mind. She remembered hands that felt like his, slamming her against the bed, holding her wrists down. She could hear her own voice telling him to stop...

She remembered Tom's face above her, the contorted, perverse look as he pried her legs apart; how fast he penetrated her; of him ignoring her cry of pain… Of how quickly it was over without even the slightest consideration that he had stuck his dick in another living person. _How did I not realize that it wasn't Tom that…_

_Raped you!_

With that simple, furious thought from him, she had lost the capacity to be the voice of reason. She never dared to think of what happened in those terms. She had always blamed herself for being seduced by a stranger who said things to her that she so desperately needed to hear. She thought it was him because he had said some things to her that made her _want_ to believe it was.

Feeling sick, she leaped off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. It was stupid. When she needed to be alone, there was no way in hell that she could be. She didn't even see a point in locking the door when it whooshed shut behind her.

B'Elanna choked back the first sob. All she needed was to just clean herself off and start over. She quickly stripped down to her Starfleet issue boxers and tank and turned on the shower.

When she finished undressing, she could hear Tom stumbling outside the door. She could still feel his raw anger and his shame because he didn't have the ability to restrain himself sexually. It was more than she could handle.

When she heard the door whoosh open, she spun around so her back was facing him. She could feel his heavy breathing on the bare skin of her neck. Her body felt hot. It was like the temperature in their quarters had been raised without her knowing.

"B'Elanna," he whispered. It took him so much effort to say her name. The sound of his voice broke her. The tears began to fall.

She felt his hand on her shoulder. Gently, he nudged her around to face him.

She looked up into his tear-streaked face, seeing the strain in his features, feeling his frustration of not being able to talk or think straight. His eyes dilated further when he got a good look at her.

_You're shaking._

B'Elanna looked down at her hands, alarmed and confused. She didn't know if it was her own emotional reaction or if it was the neurogenic link affecting her.

Tom didn't know either, but was sickened by his own carelessness. She was displaying symptoms of _Pon Farr_ but it was hard for him to tell for sure without a tricorder. He never wanted this to happen. He didn't know if he could ever forgive himself for doing this to her.

But there was more to it than just that. Tom was keeping something from her. So just like he had done to her, she searched his mind and pulled the truth to the surface.

He didn't want her to act…

…_Klingon_.

xxx

The Doctor frowned and snapped off his tricorder. "Ensign, is there always seven years between _Pon Farr _cycles?"

"Give or take. Why?" Vorik pushed himself off the main biobed. When he arrived in sickbay, the Doctor had put him through a series of quick tests and, with his permission, cross-referenced his cortical scans with Lieutenant-Commander Tuvok's from over the past two years.

"If I'm not mistaken, you may have only another year left to find a suitable mate," the Doctor said.

"Five years between cycles is unlikely, Doctor. You have to be mistaken."

"I'm afraid not. Do you want to go over my data yourself? It might explain how you've been acting."

Vorik closed his eyes and summoned patience. Having tampered with things he shouldn't have been tampering with and being relieved of duty, he needed a logical explanation for his behavior. Even though he didn't like it, he had to yield to the fact that the Doctor's diagnosis fit.

His instincts were beginning to take hold and, much to his shame, he had to admit that he still wanted B'Elanna Torres.

Who wouldn't? She was beautiful, and smart, and...

She was married to Tom Paris.

It was time for him to think about what Commander Chakotay and that meddlesome Talaxian had tried to get him to admit...

_Did he want Tom Paris dead?_

He didn't know the answer to that question since he didn't know the Lieutenant well enough to come up with an unbiased answer. Certainly, Neelix was right, he wanted him out of the picture, but he didn't want to commit murder. Lieutenant Paris never did anything to warrant death. In fact, what he did to help Commander Tuvok had showed him just the opposite. Tom Paris was worthy of life and worthy of B'Elanna.

He began to understand why Neelix was so quick to judge him. He did some things that made him truly question his ability to think logically. He didn't premeditate anything. Chakotay was right about him. He was taking opportunities as he saw them without thinking them through.

He had to tell someone everything he did before it was too late.

"Ensign, I believe I have found an explanation for why you're displaying pre-_Pon Farr_ symptoms." The Doctor glanced up from his console where he was going over his data.

"Doctor, can we talk about this later? There is something that I need to tell you."

xxx

At that moment, B'Elanna felt like her entire world had been ripped from her, exposed, and destroyed. She wanted to let the _Pon Farr_ kill her. She shoved Tom away.

Then, from deep within she could feel... Rage. Forcing its way to the surface and right into her fist. Without any further thought, she drew her arm back and swung. Her knuckles impacted with Tom's jaw.

Tom stumbled back, hitting his arm hard on the wall to the shower. He landed haphazardly, halfway on the shower floor. He wiped the blood off his lip with his sleeve, stunned. Water soaked his sickbay clothes.

B'Elanna looked down at her hands. Still shaking, she couldn't stop the panic that was eating away at her, or the tears that were pouring out of her eyes. She had to stop what was happening. The neural link wasn't going to help them, it was going to kill them. She reached towards her temple...

"B'Elanna, No!" Tom didn't even give her a moment to realize what he was doing. He stumbled to his feet and grabbed her by her wrists. He twisted her around and pushed her backwards into the shower, against the tiled wall. He pinned her wrists above her head. "_You made me promise…" _His intention was clear: it was her turn.

"Let go!" B'Elanna's voice was high pitched and filled with panic. She tried to yank herself free, and realizing she couldn't, she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the crying.

Tom was so close she could feel her body reacting to him. Her flesh filled with goose-bumps and her nipples were already hard. Between her legs, she was sopping wet.

She felt filthy.

A split second later, B'Elanna felt her wrists being pulled off the wall. Her eyes flew open and Tom spun her into a hold. Her breathing sounded like his and she couldn't deny what was happening to her. Somehow that forty-seven percent chance had turned into a hundred percent guarantee.

Then, she felt the warm spray of the shower over her skin. It felt calming to her. Tom intended to hold her there until she felt clean.

His breath on the back of her neck and the warmth of his feverish body holding hers caused a low, very Klingon growl to erupt from deep within. She was ashamed of the sound she instinctively made, but she couldn't stop it. Angry at herself, she tried to break free again, but it only made Tom hold her tighter. She could feel pain on her arm where his hand restrained her from moving.

When he was certain she would stop fighting, he risked removing one hand to pull the sickbay pajamas off his hips and down to his knees. His naked skin pressed into her rear end.

With his free hand, he caressed her from just above her knee, up her thigh.

He grabbed her leg with one sudden movement and lifted it off the floor. She stumbled and cried out. He caught her and kept her safe from falling by pressing her against the shower wall. There, Tom had perfect access for what he was about to do.

She drew in her breath, stopped moving, and braced herself…


	8. Feedback

Tom pushed forward and penetrated her to the hilt with his hot, throbbing cock. Her slick walls tightened around him. He gasped, certain he would lose it within the next thirty seconds.

She let out a small cry. He vaguely remembered that he injured her earlier that day. He was hurting her and could feel the panic building when he realized he was unable to stop himself. It was as though withdrawing would burn him alive.

"Easy, B'Elanna," he whispered. "It's just me."

Confused as to why he had to tell her that, he remembered that only a few moments before she had struggled to free herself, embarrassed and ashamed of the very Klingon sound she had made. He didn't understand. She was a Klingon goddess, and he was, at best, a Targ in heat.

She let out another growl, louder than the first.

Then, by force of nature, he began his rhythm. His pace quickened ardently and exponentially with each thrust until his very movement became completely involuntary. It was all happening so fast. Tom tightened his grip hard around B'Elanna, in an agonizing effort to slow himself down. He couldn't bring himself let her go. The pressure had become unbearable.

"Don't stop." Her voice was high pitched. She was so close... It enough to send him over the edge. He fought, but his bare nerves forced him into a jarring, maniacal orgasm. An anguished cry escaped his lips, and, a fast moment later, he found himself gasping for breath and twitching.

Then, regretting that he did not a thing to please her, he relaxed his his hold on B'Elanna Torres, the woman he had dishonored from the very beginning...

xxx

Neelix scooped up the last of the pasta off the upholstery by the viewport and plopped it in the mixing bowl with the rest of the food that had been temporarily turned into projectile bombs. It wasn't the first food fight he had ever seen in the mess hall. Or even _caused_. But something about this one really made him angry.

No. Something about it made him _furious_! He knew exactly what it was. It wasn't about Tom, or B'Elanna, or even Vorik...

_It was about Kes. _

Everything he had said to Vorik was the same advice he should have taken a long time ago. He drove Kes away from him with his own incessant jealousy. He often wondered what would have happened if he had only treated her like a woman instead of a child. Would Kes still be on Voyager? Would they be married? Would he be a father? A grandfather?

Vorik deserved everything that he himself deserved.

Someone behind him cleared his throat, interrupting his self-pity. Neelix spun around to find Harry Kim looking at him curiously.

"Neelix." Harry half smiled, seeming a little nervous. "I was wondering if I could help you clean this up."

Neelix sighed. "I appreciate the offer, Ensign, but this is my mess. I really need to…"

"Alright then, let's drop the subtext. Just tell me what's going on with Tom. I've heard some pretty scary rumors and no one is telling me anything."

"What have you heard?"

"I heard that Vorik got him sick. On purpose. Because he wanted B'Elanna all to himself. Listen, I know we're a wacky bunch here on Voyager, but that doesn't sound very Vulcan to me. Someone also said that Tom might be dying."

Neelix suddenly realized that this unexpected visit from Harry might actually be a blessing in disguise. Harry had done half his work for him by unwittingly learning how much damage had been done. "Is that all you've heard?"

"Not the worst of it. Some of the other rumors are pretty bad. I just want to know of he's alright."

"Well, I'm not sure I know the answer to that. B'Elanna is… I mean... The Doctor is doing all he can to help him." Neelix hoped Harry didn't catch that one slip.

Harry just stared at him. He wasn't that stupid.

"B'Elanna is doing all that she can to help him," Neelix amended apologetically.

"Then the really bad rumors are true."

Neelix nodded.

A concerned expression flashed across Harry's face and seemed to disappear as quickly as it came. He shrugged. "Well, I guess that 'get well' card from Naomi Wildman wouldn't be appropriate after all."

Neelix shook his head. "That's probably not a good idea. You said you wanted to help me clean up this mess... Did Chakotay send you?"

"In an offhand way. He didn't tell me anything. He just said I was needed in the mess hall."

It made sense. Harry was Tom's best friend. He would go to great lengths to protect him if only to be able to say to him later, _'you owe me one'. _Yes, indeed, Chakotay knew what he was doing. That thought was actually very comforting.

"I see… Well, I suppose if you're going to help me, we're going to need to get all the facts straight."

"I'm all ears." Harry crossed his arms and waited for the truth to come out.

xxx

"Captain, we have a problem."

Captain Janeway put her hands on her hips and waited for the Doctor to explain. She was relieved to find that the Doctor had not beamed Tom and B'Elanna into sickbay, but she still knew it had everything to do with them.

"Commander Chakotay must have made you aware that I examined Ensign Vorik a short time ago because he was having trouble focusing on his duties earlier today."

The Captain nodded and waited.

"With his permission," the Doctor continued, "I'm at liberty to discuss with you my findings, but first I must tell you that he made a confession to me..."

"A confession?"

"Given the nature of what he did, I thought it appropriate to confine him to quarters until further notice."

The door to sickbay slid open and Seven of Nine strode in. She stopped in front of Janeway and the Doctor. "You wished to speak with me, Doctor?"

"Since you're all here... It seems that Ensign Vorik had brief contact with one of the neurogenic interface devices while B'Elanna was having dinner in the mess hall."

Janeway's eyes widened.

Seven looked annoyed. "Did he manage to break that as well?"

"He disabled the safeties that you so painstakingly put in place this morning," he told her.

"What would that do to Tom and B'Elanna?" Janeway asked before Seven could respond.

The Doctor looked her in all seriousness. "Put them in a feedback loop, Captain."

"A… feedback loop?" Janeway wasn't sure she understood, so she began to pace, mulling it over.

"_A stalemate, _Captain," Seven answered. "A deadlock. Because of the way the interface works, the most likely occurrence is that Lieutenant Torres will be affected by the _Pon Farr_. As they make an effort to cure Lieutenant Paris he would only be affected by it again from her because of the slight delay in the interface's processing subroutines. Then, after she is cured…"

"She will be affected by it though him again and they will be stuck in an infinite loop..." Janeway continued for her and wondered what happens when the Borg assimilate a Vulcan in heat. Did the whole collective get it? Who knew? She supposed it was a question for a different time.

"And probably be really sore by the end of the night," the Doctor concluded.

Seven and the Captain just looked at the Doctor, effectively jarred from their thoughts.

"What? It's the truth. At any rate, Captain, I didn't think it was alarming enough to beam them back to sickbay just yet. I wanted to get some input on finding another, less intrusive, way to prevent this disaster from occurring."

Janeway laughed to herself.

"Something funny, Captain?"

"This whole time you wanted nothing more than for them to have it out in your office and suddenly you're concerned about protecting their privacy."

"Well, actually, I'm more concerned about that threat of revenge from B'Elanna."

Janeway cut her last snicker short and decided to get back to subject. She began to pace again, thinking... "Seven, if we could somehow, _safely_," she emphasized, "tap into that link without them knowing…"

"I fail to understand how that would solve this dilemma, Captain. If they're unaware of a third presence, any communication attempt would be irrelevant."

"That's not what I'm thinking. I was thinking if there was a way to tell when Tom's _Pon Farr_ is resolved that we can disable their connection through your alcove immediately. B'Elanna didn't suffer a purging meld. Her situation isn't the same as his. She doesn't need the mind link."

"Or we could simply short out the link and start over again," Seven suggested. "When they lose their connection they would contact sickbay wondering why it isn't working."

"Not a good idea, Captain," the Doctor said. "Mr. Paris doesn't have much time left. You saw his condition before we beamed them out."

"I don't know if I'm comfortable linking to a couple during copulation, Captain." Seven's apprehension was evident.

Janeway remembered that Seven was still a virgin. Her adult life had begun when they severed her connection to the collective. She looked particularly vulnerable at that moment. "I think it's appropriate to have Tuvok do it," was all Janeway had to say on that matter. It sounded poetic anyway. As if there weren't enough poets on board.

"That does seem logical, Captain." Seven looked relieved.

The Captain glanced around and waited to see if anyone else had anything to say. When she was satisfied that their conversation was done, she hit her comm badge. "Captain Janeway to Tuvok."

_::Yes, Captain.::_

"Meet me in cargo bay two. There is something we need to discuss."

xxx

Shakily, Tom stumbled back, his pants around his knees awkwardly keeping him bound. He braced himself against the wall to keep himself from falling. The spray of the shower had turned lukewarm since water showers on starships were never meant to last long. It was all happening just like before, except this time he had managed to drag B'Elanna into hell with him. To his own trembling horror, he still burned for her…

B'Elanna turned slowly around to face him while trying to prevent her own tremors from overtaking her small, muscular frame. When her eyes met his, he quickly averted his to the drain, thankful that at least there was no blood this time.

She slammed both of her hands against the wall on either side of his head, effectively caging him in. He jumped and quickly looked back at her.

"Dishonor?" Her human curiosity seemed to override everything else she was experiencing at that moment. _What do you know about dishonor?_

Tom realized he owed her an explanation but it was all so fragmented. He searched his mind for a lie to tell her until he could put the truth into words, but she immediately picked up on it.

Memories flashed though his mind. Of Alice, of Steth, and… _The Nazi._

She stepped closer to him, her face just inches away. _That was when I became an afterthought to you… _She started pulling his memories of the hologram to the surface..._  
_

_You were never just an afterthought to me._ He was still defensive, but very sincere. He was so tired of fighting and hiding. He closed his eyes and opened his mind for her to take whatever she needed...


End file.
